


Cathartic Appeal

by twenty_one_jalex



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots, emo trinity - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Funny, M/M, School, Teacher-Student Relationship, This is trash, dallon is the only one who knows what he's doing, franks a whore, gerards head is too far up his ass, read it, seriously a mess, who let pete teach
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:33:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twenty_one_jalex/pseuds/twenty_one_jalex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an adventure of smut, illegal relationships, fights, drama, other shit, all to do with ships from Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and Panic! at the Disco (old and new members), twenty one pilots, as well as Phan (recently)~</p><p>Not really many actual triggers but there is strong language, mentions of drug use and alcohol, and a little bit of bullying.</p><p>|| slow updates ||</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Simply Too Anal, Mr. Way

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this is an absolute pile of garbage that I decided to write. There's a lot of teacher-student relationships, this is mainly frerard but there's a shit load of ships so buckle up.

"Gerard!" A shrill voice echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the walls. The black haired man stopped walking and shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep controlled breath before turning around to meet the owner of the voice.

"Yes, Jamia?" Gerard asked the all too happy and way too cheerful for a Monday woman, politely through gritted teeth, "I'm about to begin my lesson, so please do be quick."

The brunette shuffled along in her all too high pumps of what can only be described as an unfortunate colour. "Headmaster Weekes has a new student for you," she produced a pile of documents and various papers, "He will be in three of his five classes with you. Also apparently he was kicked out of all previous schools." She paused and bit the inside of her lip before continuing in hushed tone, "And he's known for his sexual relations with students and teachers so just watch out."

He glared at the slightly taller woman, "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm going to engage in relations with my student, _Jamia_. That's immoral and wrong." He snatched the documents from her and turned on his heel, marching into his first class: Psychology.

"Hello boys, I hope you had a good day off yesterday." Gerard walked to his desk and tossed the files for a 'Frank Anthony Iero' onto it. "Ross, come take attendance."

A slim boy with a brunette fringe shuffled to the front of the classroom and took the attendance sheet off the white board. "Uh, Bailey," he mumbled.

Gerard narrowed his eyes at the boy, "Speak up Ross."

The younger boy shifted awkwardly and cleared his throat, "B-Bailey?" He made his way down the list until he came to Frank's name, "Lero?" He asked in an unsure tone.

A scoff was heard from the very back of the classroom where a boy casually was lounging, chair tipped back against the wall and dirty converse clad feet up on his shared desk. Whoever he was supposed to be sharing with was sat awkwardly at the table next to him. On the desk was all of the boy's belongings, lazily scattered over the light brown surface. He had on a black hoodie, loose dark grey jeans held up awkwardly around his bottom with a metal belt, a pair of fingerless gloves and way too much makeup on to be within school conduct code. Another thing, he had piercings which were definitely not allowed.

Gerard snatched the paper from Ryan and scanned over the names, " _I-ero_ , not Lero. That is clearly an I, _Ryan_. Really, what does Ms Bellato even teach you in English." He walked to the back of the room and put a hand on his hip, "You must be Frank Anthony. You're obviously new here," Gerard pulled the desk forwards, causing Frank's feet to hit the ground with a thud and the boy almost tipped off his chair, "Where's your school uniform?"

Frank looked up at his suppor, lip ring between his teeth and a devious expression, "On your mum's floor."

The classroom erupted in giggles, and one boy whispered 'burn!' loud enough for Gerard to hear. The man whipped around and raked a hand through his black hair, "Urie, did I hear something from you?"

Ryan and his table mate, Brendon, were sat trying to stifle their laughter. Brendon's head was ducked into Ryan's lap as he tried to compose himself, not realizing how slightly uncomfortable Ryan was as he tried to keep his physical feelings to himself with the younger boy's head so close to his crotch. Brendon snorted and sat up, "No sir." He sucked his lower lip in and tried to make his shaking shoulders less obvious as he laughed silently.

Gerard simply glared at the boy and sighed, "Headmaster Weekes' office. _Now_." Brendon began to protest but slid his chair back and stormed out of the room. "Ross, if he's not back before class ends you can gather his belongings for him, yes?"

Ryan nodded meekly and began putting Brendon's stuff away. Gerard turned back to Frank, "Do I need to send you along with Urie?"

"How big is his dick?" He asked nonchalantly.

"That's it!" Gerard yelled and slammed his fist on the table, "You're staying after class." Frank lifted his hands and mocked being scared, leaving the older man fuming as he made his way back to the board to begin his lesson. 

 

-

 

At the end of the lesson he handed out reading material as homework, which didn't really make sense considering this was a boarding school so really it should have been schoolwork. "Any questions?" Gerard concluded.

Frank raised his hand half-mast, "Yeah I've got one." Gerard hesitantly nodded. "Can I get out of homework by blowing you?"

"Class dismissed," Gerard growled. As Frank went to shove his belongings back into his black messenger bag, Mr. Way interrupted him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, what does it look like I'm doing?" Frank asked and put the chain strap on his shoulder as he stood up.

"You're not leaving, you're staying after class for a detention. Lucky you, I have a spare class so you get to sit here alone with me while I go through your paperwork. Consider this a little teacher/student bonding."

"Eh, yeah I'm not really down," Frank shrugged, "Plus I have biology so..."

"I'll call Mr. Toro and tell him you're not going to be able to make it," he picked up the black office phone against the wall, "Sit."

Frank sighed all too loudly and slumped back into his chair, crossing his arms. He was reminiscent of a child throwing a tantrum when mom wouldn't give him chocolate. Gerard snorted and hung up the phone after explaining Frank's behaviour in class. "You look ridiculous," he commented on Frank's position.

"Fuck off," Frank grumbled.

"You know that nobody's fooled by your bad boy attitude, Iero." Gerard pulled up a chair and sat next to him, "You're just putting on a front to hide something."

The boy laughed harshly, "You don't know me old man."

Gerard sighed and stood up, walking back to his desk and pulling up Frank's paperwork. "Frank Anthony Iero Jr.," he began reading off the information, "Born on October 31st in Belleville, New Jersey. Kicked out of his middle school for mischief, swearing, and general disruptiveness. Arrested at the age of 14 for shoplifting... Three times."

"I don't need you reading my life story," Frank spat and pulled out his cellphone.

Mr. Way walked over, file still in hand, and grabbed the device from his black nail polish adorned hands, "No phones. No makeup. No fingernail polish. No hoodies. No trainers. No swearing. You know that I could kick you out just based on your first day's performance and it's not even 10:30?"

"Do it."

He sighed and tapped his chin, "Mm, how about no." He continued reading the file, "History of ear infections and bronchitis as a child, you're lactose intolerant, you don't like meat... Parents divorced at a young age, your last four schools were Catholic. This is your first time at a boarding school. You really should be in a reform school, not an art school."

Frank glared at him, "Doesn't it say why I was accepted into this shit organization?"

"Language," Gerard warned and flipped through the pages. "Ah here it is. You excel in music, especially the guitar and were already in a band. What's your band name?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, well enjoy doing your homework because I'll be here filling out an incident report on your bad attitude," Gerard shrugged, "And maybe consider actually doing your homework."

"I would rather do you," Frank offered with a sarcastic smile.

"Homework."

"You know what your problem is, Way?"

Gerard sighed and looked up at the young boy, "What is that?"

Frank tugged on his lip ring and smiled, "You're simply too anal, Mr. Way."

 

-

 

"So," Headmaster Weekes trailed off and stared at the boy across his desk, "What brings you into my office again?" He placed emphasis on the 'again'.

"The ushe," Brendon shrugged and leaned back in his chair, "I'm literally here at least once a day, you know the drill."

Dallon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, " _Brendon_..."

" _Dallon_..." Brendon mocked and shot him a smile.

"It's Mr. Weekes to you, Brendon." He opened a drawer and pulled out an incident form, "Can you fill this out while I eat my breakfast?"

The boy nodded and began filling out the form. He liked Dallon. He was probably the only person in this school that had a slightest idea as to what they were doing. Brendon had no reason to be disrespectful to Mr. Weekes. In truth, Dallon had gotten Brendon out of so much trouble multiple times. He had only began this school a year ago but without the help of the older man, he probably would have been arrested and/or expelled by now. It also was no lie that Brendon had begun to develop a small crush on him at this point.

In the same light, Brendon had feelings for his friend and roommate, Ryan Ross. The two had become basically inseperable since Brendon stood up for the older boy during recreation hours when another student tried to get into a fight with the small boy. Brendon, perhaps, was too much of an indecisive person and couldn't choose between the two so he recently decided to pursue the both of them in hopes that one of them at least turned out for him.

He scribbled a sloppy signature at the bottom of the page and placed the pen back into Dallon's cup. Dallon glanced up from his food and picked up the sheet, scanning over it quickly. He raised his eyebrows, "You didn't do anything?"

Brendon shrugged, "I just acknowledged the new kid's epic comeback to Mr. Way."

Dallon pursed his lips, "Which was?"

"Way asked Frank where his uniform was and Frank said 'on your mums floor'," he began giggling again, because of course Brendon was a 16 year old with the mental maturity of a 12 year old boy and 'your mum' jokes were the peak of hilarity between him and other boys in the school.

"Okay, that's actually pretty funny," Dallon offered him a smile and accepted the report, standing up and filing it in one of his cabinets. And Brendon, of course, couldn't help but appreciate how his grey slacks fit his body so well and accentuated his bottom. "Brendon?" Dallon asked.

"Uh, I wasn't staring," Brendon sputtered and sat up, wide eyed.

Dallon just gave him a weird look and sat down, "I didn't say you were?" He shuffled through his desk drawers looking for something and finally produced a form for a singing competition, sliding it across the desk to the boy."

"Mr. Dun says you're excelling in music and was thinking you could enter this competition. It's in town, and I would be willing to drive you," Dallon beamed at the student.

Brendon hesitantly picked it up and read over the rules. "I'll think about it," he stated quietly and folded the paper, placing it in his pocket.

"It would be really great for you to do, Brendon."

"Okay Mr. Weekes," Brendon shared a smile with him, probably for a moment too long to stay comfortable, and stood up, "Uh, I guess I might see you later or something?" He cringed at himself.

Dallon raised an eyebrow, "Try to stay out of trouble."

"I won't," he laughed and stepped out of Dallon's office.


	2. Why Do You Have A Stupid Name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Pete is illegal and weird

Dallon found himself in his office at almost 10pm with two boys looking extremely pissed off. He sighed and rubbed his temples, gathering his thoughts before he had to sort out whatever happened. Just as he opened his mouth, Brendon interrupted.

"I don't need to go to the hospital," he stated plainly and crossed his arms.

"Can you make him go to the fucking hospital?!" Ryan yelled at Dallon.

The headmaster raised his hands, "How about you shut up and I'll tell you when to speak?"

"You can't say that," Ryan mumbled.

"Oh yeah? You can't say fuck either but you just did, so let's get this on with shall we?" He smiled and folded his hands on the desk before directing his attention to Brendon. "What happened?"

"I dislocated my finger, that's it... Also the ceiling in our dorm may be broken and I need my guitar repaired."

Dallon narrowed his eyes at the boy, "I'm not even going to ask about the ceiling or your guitar. But that's it? Why is Ryan screaming at me to make you go to hospital?"

Brendon huffed and presented his hand to Dallon, which was in fact not dislocated but broken. It was red and swollen, and his pinky laid across the rest of his fingers. He pursed his lips at the deformed hand and squinted before speaking slowly, "That... Might be broken."

The younger boy threw his hands up in frustration, "It's not broken, it's _dislocated_."

Ryan turned and glared at his friend, "Oh I'm sorry, when did you earn your doctorate, Dr. Urie?"

"When I fucked your mum," Brendon retorted.

"Alright! That's enough, Jesus Christ." Dallon honestly wanted to curl up under his desk and hide until all of the students went away, because he was in fact a 5 year old at heart and honestly did need to sleep more often and wanted to forget that he was in reality a 34 year old that had a serious career. "What is it with this school and the 'your mum' jokes? Seriously guys, are we 12?"

" _I'm_ 17," Ryan exclaimed.

"Shut up Ross," both Dallon and Brendon said in unison.

The older boy scowled and let out an exasperated breath.

"Okay, how did it happen?" Dallon asked and pulled out yet another incident form for Brendon. He would make the student fill it out himself, but Dallon wasn't sure if he could trust the kid to hold a pen without somehow impaling someone.

Brendon shrugged and pushed out his bottom lip, "I was just playing guitar with Ryan and whoop, I did a thing I probably shouldn't have done, and here we are. Me and my best bud sat at my favourite headmaster's desk." He finished with a shit-eating grin on his face while Ryan was glaring at him in disbelief.

Dallon stared at him for a couple seconds before replying, "How?"

Ryan decided to interrupt, "He jumped up on one of the amps and didn't realize how low the ceilings are, so when he lifted it up to do something stupid, I'm sure, he hit the ceiling and put a hole in it, bent the head of his guitar, and then fall, causing him to land on his back and the amp hit his hand really bad."

"That makes a lot more sense." The man squeezed his eyes shut tightly and then let out a short breath, "Ryan could you go back to your dorm? I'll have someone from maintenance come inspect the hole in the morning."

Ryan exchanged goodnights with the two, his fingers trailing on Brendon's shoulder just a moment too long and then exited the room. "Are you two a-" he pointed between Brendon and the door.

Brendon's eyes widened, "What?! No... How could you t- no how did you th-no. We aren't... Together." He laughed nervously and tried way too hard to look casual. "Me and Ryan are purely platonic."

Dallon raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look, "Ooookay. Didn't know you swung that way anyways." He shuffled some papers around on his desk.

"Does it bother you if I did?" Brendon asked defensively, "Are you homophobic sir?"

The older man's loud laughter filled the small space between them. He rubbed his eyes, still chuckling. "No Brendon, I'm anything but homophobic."

The boy didn't catch his drift, "So... You're just not comfortable with me and Ryan? I mean if we were dating of course. Which we aren't, I'm not even interested in him. I'm not even gay."

Dallon offered him a sympathetic smile, "No Brendon. I'm bisexual. Which really, I shouldn't even be telling you because it's none of your business." He furrowed his brows and turned in his chair to face Brendon again, "Why did I just tell you that?"

"I... Have no idea," Brendon held back his grin of excitement. He knew he had even more of a chance, well in theory. Although he had genuine feelings for this man, he knew how risky anything between the two of them could be, and also doubted that Dallon would even be interested in a stupid 16 year old.

"Can I ask you something?" Dallon asked cautiously.

_Oh no, he can read thoughts. I'm dead_ , Brendon thought to himself. "Yes?" His voice came out a bit higher than intended.

"Is there a reason you're constantly coming back into my office? It's like you're trying to get yourself landed in here," Dallon explained.

Brendon shrugged, "Nobody else wants to deal with my shit I guess."

"Well I do, you're actually a really good kid." Dallon smiled at him in a dreamt sense if he hadn't been this boy's headmaster, "I like you Brendon."

"I really like you more than a teacher thing," Brendon covered his mouth the minute it flew out.

Dallon cleared his throat and felt his face heating up at the statement. Because in all honesty, he had begun having feelings for him within the first couple months that Brendon was at this school. And maybe, just maybe, they both wanted to end up with each other in the end.

-

"Sup dudes," Pete yawned and fell back into his office chair. "Welcome to my new students for this semester, I am Mr. Wentz and this is geography 20-1."

A kid piped up from the back, "Is that a fucking pun?"

"I wish it were, but my entire life is a joke and I am actually named Pete Wentz," he shrugged and flipped his hair out of his face. "Pun kid, come write my name on the board, W-E-N-T-Z."

"Excuse me sir, but are you wearing a hoodie? That has to be against the school code of conduct," The same kid asked. He had teal hair and a sarcastic expression.

Pete stared at him, "You, what's your name?"

"Xian Bailey-Ollerenshaw," he replied smugly.

"Yes this is a hoodie and your tacky hair is also against school code. Also, Xian..." Pete tapped his lips thoughtfully, "Aren't you like... Not Asian? You look white. Why do you have a stupid name?"

"You can't insult students!" Another student piped up.

"I just did, now onto the lesson." He shuffled around the countless papers that were scattered across his desk until he found the sheets to fill out. He scanned across the room, "Side burns come grab these and hand them out."

The shorter ginger kid stumbled to the front of the class and grasped the papers. He found himself staring at the man before him, appreciating his hair, eyeliner, general look. Hell, if he hadn't clearly introduced himself as his teacher, the guy could have appeared as a student.

"Hey, weird kid. Take the papers and hand them out." Pete gave him a weird look, "What's your name anyways? And what's with the fedora?"

"Patrick Stump," he stuttered and almost dropped the sheets, "I'm 18."

Pete gave him a confused look, "Thanks for the information... Patrick. Can you stop being a little weirdo and go hand them out? I'm not asking you anymore after this."

Patrick's eyes widened and he snatched the papers, handing them to his fellow students in a hurried fashion. Meanwhile, Mr. Wentz found himself thinking about Patrick. He couldn't help but giggle a little at how his side burns looked under his black hat. He hadn't noticed this kid in school before, and seeing as how he was 18 he was both legal and probably willin-. _No Pete_. He shook his head and glanced down at his lap, confirming that his impossibly tight skinny jeans did in fact hide everything he needed them too.

And as Patrick sat down tentatively into his seat, he checked his own lap only to find a problem he couldn't hide and just prayed that it would go away by the end of class. 

-

"Get off the desk!" Ms Simmons screamed at a brunette with a lip ring who was standing on his skateboard which happened to be on top of his desk.

"Mark! Video this!" He called to his friend across the room with a spiky haircut.

Alicia ran over to Mark and snatched the phone out of his hands, "No! Absolutely no videoing, Tom if you don't get off that desk this instant I swear I wil-"

And with that, Tom jumped forwards with his skateboard and landed on Alicia's desk. Papers flew everywhere and her coffee fell onto the ground, her favourite white and purple mug smashing into the linoleum floor. He hopped off the desk and snatched his skateboard off, tucked it under his arm, and walked out of the class, "I know, Weekes' office."

Alicia crossed her arms in frustration and glared at Mark, "Consider this a warning." She turned to address a quiet kid with glasses and a half fringe, "Mikey can you take this folder to Mr. Wentz's room?"

The brunet rolled his eyes and grabbed the folder from her, making sure that she heard his sigh of absolute exasperation just to let her know how much effort this was for him and that she was interrupting his nap time in her useless class. For this was of course Mikey Way, who definitely had acquired the sass trait from his older brother Gerard. Luckily Mikey didn't have his head shoved up his ass like him, because his sass was enough for the majority of this school. He would definitely be entirely unmanageable if he was a stuck up person too.

Mikey walked down the halls in search of Pete's class. He'd actually never had a class with Mr. Wentz, had little clue to where his room was, and had never seen the man in his life.

He found himself standing outside of a class near the back of the school, close to the dorms. There was a brass placard on the door that read 'Mr. Peter Wents III' but someone had crossed out the s and scribbled a z in sharpie above it, directly onto the door. He didn't bother to knock, even though the guy was probably in the middle of teaching a class.

What he didn't expect was to open the door and see all the kids lounging and chatting with each other. Even more unexpected was the extremely attractive, though slightly emo, man at the front of the room who appeared to be playing flappy bird on his phone with great concentration.

Mikey cleared his throat and the man, assumably Pete Wentz, held up a finger. "Be right with you kid, trying to beat my score."

He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the door frame, examining the man in front of him. He had black, straightened hair and definitely was wearing eyeliner. His clothes were 100% against code of conduct, even for teachers. But he also had heavy eyelashes that framed his face perfectly. And his mouth was really a perfect shape. He didn't really have any business teaching and could pass as a senior if it weren't for the tattoos peeking out of his hoodie sleeves.

He looked up and Mikey was met with the most beautiful brown eyes he'd ever seen. Mikey just stood there staring, probably looking shell shocked. Pete stared right back and made a mental note that he needed to stop getting attracted to students because it was highly illegal.

"I'm assuming that ugly manila envelope is for me," he stated and stepped towards the taller boy, opening his hand to take the envelope.

The boy only nodded, mouth slightly agape. Pete briefly wondered if the slender boy was about to drool on himself while they shared an uncomfortably long gaze into each others eyes. That was the moment that Pete should have, perhaps, turned around and gone back to his desk. But no, instead he did the stupidest thing possible because this was, of course, Peter fucking Wentz the third.

He asked him to come to his class during lunch hour. And that was quite possibly the worst thing that Pete could have done. But Mikey managed to do something even stupider.

He accepted.


	3. Side Burns Are Terrible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is like a filler i guess besides the minor ryden action. just adding a new side character, not anyone in particular. mainly a personality i made up that's inspired by one of my friends. so yeah, say hi to Aubrey Eckland and i hope you like his shenanigans as much as i do.

The last place that Ryan should be was in his room. He was supposed to be in Mr. Joseph's philosophy class but instead he was pouting. And he wasn't here for absolutely no reason. It wasn't like he just constantly slacked off and smoked weed by the window. He only did that with Brendon because Brendon really liked weed. How exactly Brendon managed to have a constant supply of the drug in his room without ever getting caught, Ryan really did not know but he chose not to question it.

He groaned and reached under Brendon's bed to extract the box with all of their paraphernalia inside. He eyed the various baggies and eventually just pulled out a fairly strong sativa strain, rolled it into a joint quickly, then shoved the box back under his friend's bed. He stood up on his bed and pulled a white lighter out of his pocket, taking one last glance towards the door to check that it was locked, and lit the joint. 

Because Ryan Ross was definitely not a stoner, and he wasn't secretly smoking in his room during philosophy and Brendon definitely wasn't looking for him at this moment and Ryan just was interested in marijuana in the casual gardening sense. Ryan Ross, was no stoner.

A knock on the door interrupted his non-stoner activities. The boy sighed and waited to see if whoever stood behind the pine door would knock again. That's when he heard keys in the doorknob and he placed the joint behind his back. As the door slowly opened, Ryan waited for it to reveal who was coming into their room, with a huge lung full of smoke held in. Luckily it was only the aforementioned real stoner, Brendon Urie. Ryan exhaled a deep sigh but began choking on the smoke he'd forgot about momentarily.

Brendon narrowed his eyes at the brunet, "Are you high?"

"Not yet," Ryan replied in a dismal tone and took a drag.

The younger boy could only shrug and plop onto his dorm mate's bed with a sigh of exasperation. "Mr. Joseph asked where you were so I told him I would go look for you, pass me that."

Ryan giggled and complied, passing the illegal substance to Brendon. The two sat on the bed, blowing smoke at the small window and chatting. The door remained locked and they only prayed that Mr. Joseph or another staff member would come to their dorm in search of them. Granted, the only teachers that would care were Mr. Joseph, Professor Way, or Ms. Simmons. Hell, if Trohman found them, he would simply ask to partake. Ryan thought about it while he held the joint thoughtfully and after a few minutes concluded that Joe was in fact the reason Brendon had so many drugs.

"So is this what we're doing for the day? Disappearing into our room and hoping no one comes looking?" Brendon asked with a smirk.

"Yeah, I mean we could go off campus." He paused and bit his lip, thinking some unclean things about his friend, "Like my mum lives within walking distance and she isn't home."

Brendon pursed his lips, "I mean yeah, but are we able to sneak off without being caught?"

Ryan sighed, "Honestly, no. Headmaster Weekes has upped the security since Aubrey tried to steal his comfy office chair in the school mascot's uniform to put in his computer room at home." Brendon raised his eyebrows. Aubrey was the #1 bullshitter in the school and Mr. Smith had kicked him out of the class multiple times.

About an hour later they were sufficiently high after chain smoking 3 and a half joints. Ryan chose to quit and Brendon finished it but honestly 4 joints to Brendon were basically 2 because his tolerance was through the roof. They were now on Brendon's phone, taking quizzes about their favourite pop punk bands. Ryan spotted one he was interested in and yelled, "Do me!"

The younger boy tensed up and turned his head to his friend, "Okay."

Ryan blushed and looked down. "Not like... Do me. Oh God, I'm sorry," he stammered.

Brendon smiled shyly, "It's okay. I wouldn't mind anyways."

And in that moment, Ryan decided that it was now or never to show Brendon his feelings and leaned forwards, grabbed his face, and firmly planted his lips on the younger's mouth.

 

-

 

Patrick sat in class, bored out of his mind. Mr. Smith was making them have study hall and Patrick had the attention span of an ostrich. He turned to his table mate and whispered loudly, "Aubrey."

The blonde looked up from his phone which was cleverly hidden in his textbook. "What?" He asked, his voice filled with disinterest.

The ginger chewed on his lip, nervous that he was speaking to anyone in class. In fact, Patrick enjoyed being alone. He was teased for wearing a fedora or trucker hats, and don't even get him started on his side burns. Plus he wasn't exactly a runway model body type. He found himself hating his appearance regularly but just dealt with it and prayed that puberty would do what he needed it to. "What did you get for number 7 on Trohman's review paper."

"Uh, nothing," Aubrey said after glancing at his page briefly, "Honestly that guy isn't ever sober and these questions barely make sense to me and that's saying a lot, because I never make sense."

Patrick nodded, "Yeah. I dunno, I just wanna get it over with." Then he turned back to his work and ignored him, not on purpose of course, he just had a tendency to zone out.

He was pulled back to reality when Aubrey shouted, "Side burns!"

Mr. Smith looked up from his desk. "Side burns..."

"No, you startled me sir. I'm not doing anything involving side burns."

Spencer stared at the blonde kid for a few moments, "Side burns are terrible. Don't just start yelling the word side burns, it's weird. Get back to work or I'll send you to the office." Then he shook his head and muttered something along the lines of 'not being paid enough to deal with Aubrey's shit'.

Patrick only scowled at the man. "Your side burns look fine dude," Aubrey reassured him. He then put in his earbuds and connected it onto his phone to listen to music. It was turned up almost all the way and Patrick wondered if he was the only one hearing how obnoxiously loud he was being.

Apparently not, because Spencer sighed and lifted his head again, "No music. Take them off."

Aubrey only stared the man dead in the eye and because turning it up further, if that even was possible considering his eardrums should be bleeding from the loudness at this point.

"Aubrey, take the headphones off or I swear to God I will-"

"You'll what?" Aubrey said and rested his head on his hand, "You can't do much because I'm a student and you're a teacher and short of sending me to the office, _again_ , you can't do a lot."

Spencer glared at him and just pointed a finger, "Last warning."

 

-

 

Frank was pissing off Gerard. Again.

He sat at the back, not in uniform again but gave some excuse about Pete wearing hoodies and that the school blazer made him itchy, and continued to tap his pencil, which was borrowed because Frank was totally unprepared for this shit, extremely loudly.

"Enough!" Gerard shouted, causing everyone who was reading silently to look up in confusion. Gerard pressed his fingers into his temple, "Continue reading, Frank come here."

The boy sighed and begrudgingly got up, dragging his feet the entire way to the front of the classroom. "Sup daddy?" He asked casually.

"First of all, never call me that again. Secondly, are you even reading To Kill A Mockingbird right now?"

Frank sighed, "First off, I don't think you'll mind it when you're fucking me. Second off, no. It's a shit book I have nothing positive to say about and I'm not reading it."

At this point, Gerard was fuming. "You can stay after class again if you want to continue giving me attitude."

He just took his lip ring in his mouth again and looked up at Gerard with playful eyes, "Do I get to suck your dick if I stay?"

Gerard was close to smacking the kid but held it back. Because honestly, Gerard was extremely attracted to the whole bad boy thing in general and he would be lying if he said he didn't find Frank attractive. But Frank was a 16 year old boy, and Gerard was a 28 year old teacher. It just wouldn't be right. "No, what's with you and sucking dick anyways?"

"I just really like dick. Can you blame me? I'm a gay horny teenager. Plus a little birdy told me that you, sir, are gay." Frank was grinning right now. "And I wouldn't mind if you felt around in me because for an old guy you're pretty appealing."

"I'm only 28, Frank."

Frank shrugged, "Alright well, just hit me up anytime you have the urge to squeeze into a tight place." He winked and subtly palmed Gerard before walking back to his desk, walking with a hint of sass and 100% trying to show off his ass in his impossibly tight skinnies, which were totally against school code.

Gerard was now frustrated in more than one way. He sat down in his office chair reluctantly and thought over what just happened. He was worried that Frank was the only way he would be able to get relief at this point. Living on campus was difficult and the only other openly gay teacher was Pete, and there was no way Gerard was going near that in a million years. He sighed louder than necessary. 

The class continued smoothly until the rustling sound of plastic was heard. Gerard's eyes shot up and scanned the room, immediately landing on Frank who was pulling a sandwich out of his small bag. "Where did you even get that?" He asked in annoyance.

"This bag is bigger on the inside," He shrugged and took the sandwich out of the plastic wrap, "Just like my ass, wanna check it out?"

Gerard was ready to hit his head off the desk but refrained from doing so, so that Frank couldn't know that he was successful in his attempt to piss off his teacher. "You're staying after class again," he managed to say.

And Frank had no problem doing so.


	4. In Which Frank Catches Mikey Being A Slut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this fic is literally already going to shit lel. also yes ryden feels last chapter but pls remember that beebo is a vv confused lil bean so. smut warning though if you couldn't tell by the title and pls leave opinions on the comments because i really would love to hear what you guys think!

Mikey found himself walking to Pete's class for some reason that he did not know. He just knew that he found Pete Wentz extremely attractive and was totally in shock when he made eye contact with him. Mikey was quiet for the most part and definitely not one to try too hard in class or with boys. He was a different kind of boy when it came to dating; he simply didn't bother.

The door to Pete's class was open, so Mikey slowed down to pop his head in. He saw Pete at the back of the room on the countertop, laptop in his lap, and a pair of earbuds in. He had taken off his hoodie since the morning, revealing full sleeves of tattoos and he could see one across his chest peeking over the low scoop neck of his shirt.

The boy cleared his throat, getting no reaction from Pete. Whatever he was watching seemed to be interesting to the guy. Mikey decided to just watch him until he was noticed.

Pete's lip twitched into a slight smirk. His eyes were trained on the right side of the screen. Mikey found it fascinating how his eyes would rake the screen and then he would chew on his finger in deep thoughts. Then he moved a hand to his lap and bit his lip and Mikey decided that this was the time to get his attention.

"Hey," he said loudly and shoved a chair to make some noise.

Pete's eyes snapped away from his screen and he slammed his laptop shut in horror. Mikey raised his eyebrows and took in Pete's general guilty appearance, concluding that he was probably watching porn on the school's wifi.

"Hi," the man said quietly and hopped off the counter. The two stood in awkward silence for a few moments, looking each other over subtly. "I'm not entirely sure why I asked you to come to my class because this is probably illegal and I likely won't get fired because we all know Dallon can't afford to get different teachers, and I just-," he rambled.

"It's okay Mr. Wentz." Mikey had to admit that his rambling was in fact, adorable, and that he was in fact very happy he came, even if he caught the teacher about to jack off,

"Please, call me Pete," he offered a smile and boy was that the brightest most sunniest sunshine of a smile Mikey had ever seen. He returned a small smirk, because Mikey never smiled and this was a rare exception.

"Okay Pete, I'm Mikey."

"I know," Pete said and then realized how creepy he sounded. "Uh, I looked at your student ID. Good thing you said your name first though because I was about to call you Michael."

Mikey smiled and looked down. "Yeah I prefer Mikey. It's more gender neutral," he explained quietly.

Pete smiled at the boy. He was kind of weird but he was adorable. The way he wore his collar of his hoodie folded up as if to cover his neck and the way he tucked his hair into the arm of his glasses might have been questionable on anyone else, but to Pete it was perfect. He couldn't help but notice how slender and feminine Mikey's frame was and how he was wearing clothes that fit him perfectly, unlike half the boys who just threw on sweats out of class. Mikey walked over to one of the desks and sat down.

"So," Pete started and walked over to the desk, half sitting on it, looking down at the boy.

Mikey took a deep breath prior to speaking, gathering his thoughts. Then he counted to three in his head before talking. "I'm not gonna dance around the reason that I'm here. I think you're fucking hot even though you're 30 or something, and I saw the way you were checking me out. I chose to come because you're not my teacher technically so..."

Pete blushed and glanced down at his hands, taking a moment before he spoke to avoid rambling again. "This is illegal but I'm not really sure if I care with you," he admitted.

The boy smiled and grabbed the front of Pete's shirt, pulling him down towards him, and planted his mouth on the older's. Pete's tongue moved into Mikey's mouth gratefully and they spent a couple minutes just making out, but when Mikey's hand palmed the front of Pete's jeans, the brunet felt the need to break the kiss and move further along.

"Is the door closed?" Pete asked breathlessly as the younger dropped to his knees.

Mikey only shrugged. "Don't worry about it, it's like 9pm. Nobody's going to be walking around looking for you," he said as he undid Pete's jeans. He looked behind him nervously at the door but elicited a loud moan when he felt Mikey take him into his mouth all at once. Pete tipped his head back in bliss and tried to keep quiet in case other teachers were in their rooms around him, which proved difficult because Mikey Way was extremely good at this. He watched the boy skillfully maneuver him around in his mouth and after his tip touched the back of his throat a couple times, Pete knew he was close.

"Fuck, Mikey I'm-" He went to pull the boy's head away but Mikey shook his slightly, looking up at him and allowed Pete to finish into his mouth. Pete sat back on the desk, panting and totally spent by the younger's skills. Mikey only stood up and brushed off his pants and walked over to the door. He spit into the trashcan and gave him a lopsided smirk.

"Thanks Pete," he said and closed the door behind him.

 

-

 

Frank found himself in Gerard's room, yet again. This time he had managed to get a detention from Mr. Wentz after class hours but Pete made some excuse that he didn't want anyone near his classroom for some reason. Frank honestly would have preferred sitting in his class and fucking around on his phone with him, but no. When he had arrived at his class for attention he saw him getting blown by some Junior so he wheeled around and went to his favourite teacher's class.

And Gerard was absolutely fuming, but what else was new?

The two sat, glaring at each other, in complete silence. Frank was sitting on top of a desk Indian-style and Gerard was leaning against the counter on the opposite side of the room with his arms crossed. There was a knock at the door and they both turned to see Mikey standing in the doorway looking less than excited.

Frank narrowed his eyes at the kid and then recognized his hair as the style Pete had her fingers firmly grasped on. He cracked a loud laugh, earning a weird look from Gerard. " _You_ ," Frank pointed his finger at the boy and hopped off the desk, walking up to him.

Mikey glared at the shorter boy, "What do you fucking want, emo?"

"Oh yeah that's really mature," Frank scoffed.

"Hey! Both of you," Gerard yelled. "Frank, that's my kid brother so you need to check yourself. Mikey, what do you want?"

Frank's eyes widened and he began laughing manically, "Oh man this just got even better." He stepped up so he was almost touching Mikey, and though the older boy was also taller, Mikey happened to be intimidated by the small emo. "Don't think I didn't see what you were doing, sweetie."

Mikey looked genuinely confused and the thought of what he had just finished doing with Pete crossed his mind but he was sure no one was even in that wing of the school. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said in a bored tone and pushed Frank away from him.

The two began shoving each other back and forth calling each other names like _emo, fag, midget_ , and even _pretty boy_ , which honestly Gerard didn't see the problem with being called because who wouldn't want to be a pretty boy?

Gerard had had enough of the two acting like children and stepped in between them. "Alright, why are you bullying my brother in the first place Frank?" He asked and sighed heavily, "I feel like I'm missing something here."

"I caught pretty boy on his knees earlier wit-".

And with that, Mikey slapped him, _hard_. Frank recoiled and held his face in shock. He definitely didn't think the slender boy even had the nerve to shove him never mind actually start a fight. Frank glared at him and lunged forwards but Gerard's arm stopped him.

"Enough!" He screamed, "I'm not having a fucking fist fight break out between you two in my classroom. If you want to beat the shit out of my brother do it somewhere I can't see."

"Hey!" Mikey yelled and Gerard only held up his hand in response, silently reminding him to shut the fuck up.

He turned back to Frank, "You caught him _what_?"

"He sucked Pete's dick."

 _Slap_. Except this time it was the back of Gerard's hand against Mikey's face.

Frank was snorting like a little kid watching the events unfold. Gerard was screaming at Mikey and there was no doubt anyone within a 5-mile radius could hear the speech Mikey was getting. "Hey, do I at least get to slap someone?" He interrupted.

"No!" They both yelled in unison. Frank only held his hands up accompanied by a shit eating grin. Because Frank was, in fact, a fucking asshole and loved to get in trouble and get everyone around him in trouble as well.

 

-

 

Dallon finally laid down for the day. Living on campus Wednesday through Saturday gave him a lot of stress. He found it was easier to just stay on site for the other teachers since they were definitely understaffed. He pulled out his phone and began checking his social media, liking the odd status. Eventually he got bored and set it down on the bedside table, rolled over, and pulled his comforter over his body.

But he didn't even have a chance to get comfortable before someone was knocking on his door in a panicked manner. Dallon groaned loudly, likely loud enough for whoever to hear, and got out of bed. The knocking continued, becoming more and more frantic. "One second!" He yelled in annoyance and lazily pulled a pair of pants on.

Before he opened the door all the way, it was swung opened by a panicked looking Brendon Urie. Dallon raised an eyebrow, "Uh. Yes Brendon?"

Brendon didn't even get a word out before he broke down in tears. "Help," he whimpered. Dallon ushered the boy into his room and gestured for him to take a seat on his bed as he closed the door behind him.

This wasn't exactly the most traditional counselling session Dallon had ever done, especially considering he was shirtless in a pair of backwards duck-printed pajama pants. He ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed a random t-shirt off the ground, not really caring how clean it was. His priority was the crying kid on top of his navy duvet.

"What happened?" Dallon asked, concern laced through his voice.

Brendon simply blubbered in response, unable to coherently get anything out. Dallon sat next to the boy and awkwardly patted his back, attempting to comfort him. He only fell into his lap, crying harder and uncontrollably.

"Hey, hey," Dallon pulled him up to a half-sitting position, basically so the kid was propped up on his shoulder. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be fine."

His sobbing quieted a bit and he took a fairly deep breath. "I-I'm not gay," he sputtered out.

Dallon raised an eyebrow, not sure if he heard him right. "You're not... gay?"

"I can't be gay," Brendon admitted. "My parents are mormon. _I'm_ mormon!" He paused and pursed his lips, "I'm not mormon, but my family..."

"Oh Brendon," Dallon sighed and pulled him into a heart felt hug, holding the younger one as he silently cried into his shoulder. Because Dallon knew all too well what he was going through with the whole self acceptance thing. "It'll make sense soon," he explained softly and stroked Brendon's hair soothingly.

The two simply sat there for a few minutes in silence, Brendon's breath became normal again and Dallon wiped the tears off his cheeks with the hem of his shirt. The silence was comfortable for the both of them. There were many things that could be said such as _I'm sorry_ or _It'll be okay_ but those were empty words and Dallon honestly couldn't promise it would be okay, nor would be apologize that Brendon was born a certain way even if his parents weren't accepting of it, or maybe they were. But from the way that he was talking before, it sounded as if they weren't going to be accepting of it.

They looked up at each other and pain flickered across Brendon's eyes, so Dallon did the only thing he could think of to ease the boy's mind, or at least make him forget it momentarily.

He kissed him.


	5. What's Peachy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a bad chapter i'm sorry. smut ish warning.

"No way," Ryan said in shock to Jon. He shook his head and sat back in his seat, totally flabbergasted. 

It didn't take long for the word to spread that Mikey Way and Pete Wentz were potentially a thing. Frank wasted no time in telling multiple people, which could also be confirmed by students who lived by Pete's room and heard something, and again anyone in the aforementioned 5-mile radius of Mr. Way's room heard most of the argument.

Xian leaned back on his chair and turned his head back towards Ryan and Jon. "They have a ship name."

"Already?" Jon asked and raked his hand through his hair.

Another boy nodded and passed him his phone, which displayed a very tumblr-ey edit of them and 'Petekey' in white cartoon letters posted to Instagram. Ryan raised his eyebrows and sent the picture to his number. Brendon was gonna flip when he heard this if he hadn't yet.

In fact, he hadn't come back last night. After the two ended up making out for awhile, they moved quickly and clothes were tossed aside, fingers touched bare skin, whimpers and moans escaped parted lips, and all sense of morals were thrown out the window. But just as soon as they had begun, they were finished and the shame set into Brendon's mind. He muttered something about not being able to do this and got dressed as quickly as humanly possible, then he ran out and left.

Ryan was left alone for the night, alone and embarrassed. He texted his friend Jon to come over because he honestly just didn't want to be alone at the time. The two ended up just talking until Ryan got tired and Jon snuck back to his own room, leaving Ryan to wake up utterly alone again.

He opened his laptop to work on his musical theory paper and ended up just getting on Facebook instead. Scrolling down his page, he saw not one, not two, not three, but four separate posts about petekey. He groaned and rested his head on a propped arm.

"I don't even see what the big deal is." Ryan jumped at the sudden voice behind him. "Relax, I'm not gonna hit you, pussy." He turned to see Frank sitting on the edge of the stage behind them, a white Les Paul laying in his lap.

He stood up from his chair and walked towards the boy. "He blew a teacher, of course it's a big deal," Ryan retorted, hand on his hip and giving Frank 50 Shades of Sass as he looked up at him.

Frank just shrugged and played another string, listening to it for a couple seconds before slightly turning the peg. "I just don't see it. So what? Boys have needs, and apparently Mr. Wentz does too. God knows I've done it," he said casually and hopped down after placing the strap around his neck.

Ryan only scoffed. "And you're like the role model of the year or something?" He asked sarcastically, "Seriously like where do you get off?"

"I would say in your mum, but even if I was straight I wouldn't step anywhere near that," Frank replied in an equally sarcastic tone. Ryan decided that he really didn't feel like getting into a fight with the asshole today, and reminded himself that he was literally a walking noodle and likely would not win if it came to defending his life, so he just bit his tongue and went to pick up his acoustic guitar.

He walked up onto the stage and sat near Frank, cross legged. Frank pivoted so he was sitting facing Ryan. They both sat, playing around with differently chords and glanced up at each other every so often. Ryan began strumming a progression repeatedly and Frank stopped playing to listen to the chords, then came in quietly with his own riff.

The two played off each other effortlessly, Frank not missing a beat as Ryan switched into a completely different tune. It almost seemed to have turned into a competition between the two and almost everyone in the class were watching them at this point.

Mr. Dun had arrived in the class and leaned against the doorway, watching the two showing off as much as they could but managing to sound in harmony, though their styles and taste in music were entirely different.

Finally when Ryan's finger slipped, he played a sour B and he stopped. Frank offered him a smile and held out his fist. The taller one leaned forwards and lightly hit his own fist off Frank's.

"So Petekey, huh?" Ryan asked Frank again as Josh was approaching them.

"What's Peachy?" Josh asked in confusion.

The two exchanged a look. "Peachy? It's uh... uh. It's hard to explain."

Josh looked at the pair with a weird look and sighed. "Is it a drug thing?"

"No-"

"Yeah that's it," Frank interrupted Ryan before he said something stupid, then grabbed the older's arm and dragged him to the acoustic room. "What the fuck?!" He yelled.

Ryan raised his hands and stepped back, the neck of his own guitar accidentally hitting a few that were hanging up. "What?" He asked.

"You can't just tell a teacher what Petekey is." Frank shook his head in disbelief. "If the teachers find out about it right away there might be some serious shit that goes down."

"I fail to see the problem?" Ryan asked, genuinely confused.

Frank sighed in disbelief, "Let the two have their fun and it'll be over soon."

Ryan shook his head and laughed, "How do you know?"

"I'm gonna fuck them both."

 

-

 

Brendon rolled over and groaned as the sun hit him in the face. What he had previously assumed to be a pile of pillows next to him began stirring as well and after a few moments of rustling, Dallon's bed hair and cringing face surfaced from the cocoon of blankets.

The two stared at each other, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. "Uh, morning?" Brendon managed to squeak out.

Dallon squinted at the boxer clad boy propped up in his bed. "Why aren't you in class?" He whispered, still half asleep.

The boy squeezed his eyes shut and yawned, shaking his head. It was only when Dallon threw off his comforter that Brendon took in the fact that both of them were only in boxers. He gasped and clamped a hand over his mouth. "We didn't..." He trailed off.

"What?" Dallon said in a scratchy sleep voice. "Oh.. Oh! Oh God, no Brendon. Don't worry." He sat up and was fully awake now.

Awkward would be an understatement. You could honestly cut the tension in the room with a knife. They both shifted around a lot, avoiding eye contact, their lips holding back jumbled up words and feelings. Because Dallon was the headmaster and Brendon was a student.

Dallon found himself reminding himself that this is illegal while he leaned towards Brendon. All in the same stride, Brendon found himself thinking about Ryan and Dallon and how he just couldn't pick as he gravitated towards the man as well.

Their lips collided and Dallon ended up pulling Brendon onto his lap. "This. Is. So. Wrong," he said in between kisses, giggling a little.

Brendon shushed him and continued, dipping his head to attach his lips to Dallon's neck. The two couldn't lie that even though it was probably so wrong, it felt so good. Their hands were basically all over each other, Brendon kept grinding into Dallon and earning an array of small gasps, whines and even a fairly loud moan.

The older flipped them with ease, and sat up so he was hovering above Brendon's lap, then began sliding down his body, letting his lips trail lightly across his skin the entire way. He shivered under Dallon's lips and threw his head back as they grazed his ever growing bulge, squirming a bit in anticipation.

After what felt like ages of teasing, Brendon finally got the type of touch that he needed when he felt a hand firmly grasp onto his member. "Fuck," he gasped. "What are you doing to me?"

And Dallon only smirked up at him, knowing exactly what he was doing to the boy.

 

-

 

Patrick sat in his geography class alone, fingers tapping the desk as he waited for the bell to ring. Pete strode into class, eyes wandering around the room. He honestly looked tired, more so than normal. This time he looked more emotionally drained than anything.

He opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a pile of reading booklets and passed them out himself. "Here's some reading things, they're for your upcoming test. Highlight and answer the questions on the back in silence," he explained and walked back to his desk.

A couple kids began their usual bants and Pete sighed. "You two," he yelled. "I will not hesitate to keep you both after class." The two exchanged worried looks but went back to their booklets quietly.

Pete sat, leaning against the wall and staring at the floor. This definitely was not the same Pete his students were accustomed to. They were used to a sassy emo who was the worst teacher ever and should have been fired ages ago. But here sat Pete in a suit, he had pushed his hair back and he looked like an adult today.

Patrick raised his hand and approached Pete's desk. "I don't understand this," he lied. Because Patrick was a very good student and he could probably pass this class with an A without even leaving his room.

The older raised his eyebrow at the boy. "Which part?" He asked in a bored tone.

"Uh," Patrick stalled because he honestly didn't think he would get this far. He sighed, "I understand it all but are you okay?"

"What do you mean am I okay?" Pete asked.

The boy gestured at his clothes. "You're being a proper teacher today and it's scaring everyone."

"Fair enough," Pete shrugged. "I'm just going through some shit I guess."

Patrick nodded. "Does it have anything to do with that Petekey thing?"

Pete laughed darkly. "You heard about that too I see," he shook his head.

"Everyone has heard about it," Patrick shrugged. "It's not a big deal though."

"It wouldn't be a big deal if Gerard would stop being an overdramatic little shit," Pete sighed and rested his head on his desk.

"Nobody likes Gerard anyhow." Patrick picked up his booklet off the desk, "Just stop being a good teacher because everyone is a little spooked by it."

"Will do."


	6. Maybe Next Time, Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEYYYYY. long time no update sry guys. the content of this chapter is questionable but personally i think it's well written so pls.
> 
> smut warning btw

Gerard raked his fingers through his hair and made his way to the gymnasium in search of Frank. Dallon hadn't really left his room much and told the teachers they could do what they wanted. Frank apparently had already been kicked out of gym and had to spend the rest of the period in Gerard's room but he refused to listen to Mr. Hurley.

He stepped into the gym and didn't see Frank anywhere so he looked for Andy instead. He was found yelling at some student to do an ungodly amount of pushups, which honestly didn't surprise Gerard considering Andy was an absolute health and fitness nut. Andy only looked up to point at the locker room and went back to screaming.

Pushing open the locker room door, he found the boy laying on one of the benches in his gym clothes, playing music loudly.

"Get up and you have detention in my room," Gerard commanded and crossed his arms, leaning against the door.

Frank mocked him but got off the bench and pulled off his shirt, displaying tattoos covering his chest, while simultaneously kicking off his gym shorts.

Gerard looked away in surprise, avoiding eye contact completely. "What are you doing?" He mumbled, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Getting changed?" Frank responded, standing in nothing but tight black boxer briefs.

Gerard's mouth only formed an 'o' and he turned slightly so he could keep his eyes off of Frank, because he had to admit he looked really good naked.

"Oh," Frank grinned. "Does this bother you?" He gestured at his body.

"What? No," Gerard responded in a totally defensive tone.

Frank took a step towards his teacher. "Really? Because you look a little hot and bothered there Mr. Way," he said in a low voice and placed his hand on Gerard's chest.

Gerard glanced down at the hand firmly planted on him, his face heating up. "No?" he squeaked out, his voice barely a whisper.

"What was that?" Frank asked, the same devilish smile plastered across his face.

"No-oh fuck," he gasped when Frank's other hand palmed the front of his dress pants.

Frank leaned forwards so his face was right next to Gerard's. His mouth was dangerously close to his lips as Gee writhed a little against his touch. The older bit his tongue to hold back words he shouldn't be saying to a student, his lips holding back various swears and pleads.

Just as Frank's lips were about to attach to Gee's, he turned his head and pushed off of him, turning around to change back into his school clothes.

Gerard let out a huff of frustration and nervously ran his fingers through his hair which was honestly a bad habit of his.

"What?" Frank asked as he jumped around pulling up his jeans, struggling to get the tight denim over his legs.

"You're a fucking tease," Gerard sighed. Though he really shouldn't be that disappointed because he was the kid's teacher after all.

Frank only giggled, and God that sound was like heaven. It was loud and maybe a little dumb but it was honestly like watching a child, and Gerard had to admit he loved the sound of that stupid giggle because when Frank wasn't being a cocky asshole, he was downright adorable.

As he walked to the door, he paused and looked at Gerard. "Maybe next time... _Daddy_."

-

"Fuck!" Pete moaned as he stilled inside Mikey, slowing down his pace until he finished riding out his high.

Mikey pulled off of him and sighed, cringing a bit as he took a step and felt a decent amount of pain in his ass. He grabbed his blazer off the desk nearest him and straightened out his shirt as well as he could.

"You know, we really shouldn't be doing this," Pete admitted.

"So do you want to stop then?" Mikey asked and put his hands on his hips.

Pete pushed his knuckles into his eyelids lightly. "That's not what I meant," he sighed. "I just... Your brother was pretty pissed about it and is making a big deal in the staff room over lunch."

"Oh Gerard can fuck off," Mikey muttered and pulled on his pants. "He has no business being a stuck up twat over it all."

"Well excuse me but you don't have to directly deal with him every day." Pete glared at the ground as he did his jeans back up.

Mikey shrugged in reply. The two stood silently pondering how to get the kid's older brother out of the picture without resorting to murder.

"I could always lie to him," Mikey suggested.

Pete shook his head, "I don't know if he would believe it. I mean Frank did actually see it happening."

"And?" Mikey scoffed. "Gerard hates that kid, he would surely take his wittle bwother's word over some emo douche with a mohawk."

"I guess it doesn't hurt to try," he admitted. "We might need to try and be more private about this though."

"Do you have a class?" Mikey asked as he fixed his hair in his phone reflection.

"Unfortunately," Pete replied in a dismal tone. He buttoned his black shirt back up and took a step back.

"Have fun with that. I'm not going to the rest of my classes."

Pete gave him a weird look but only shrugged. "Do you want me to write a note or something?"

"Don't you think that might look a bit weird, considering I have no classes taught by you?" Mikey asked, smirking. Pete only shook his head and laughed. The two of them exchanged awkward goodbyes, Pete trying to play everything off extremely casually and act disinterested.

As Mikey slipped out of the classroom, Frank was walking by, much to his dismay. The younger smirked at him and stepped in front of Mikey.

"Getting good grades again?" Frank crossed his arms and blocked the path to the hall.

"Fuck off," Mikey muttered. "And for your information I'm not even in his class."

"Oh wow, so you're just a slut for teachers out of pure enjoyment!" Frank exclaimed and grinned up at the older.

Mikey twisted his face into a frown and rolled his eyes. "Bite me, Frank Iero."

"Oh kinky," Frank purred and stepped closer to the boy. "Maybe I will babe."

"Not in a million years would me and you _ever_ happen," Mikey spat and pushed him. Frank only shrugged and turned around on his heel, then made his way down the hallway.

"Where the fuck are you going?!" He yelled at the short boy.

Frank looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Straight to hell."

-

Tyler was pacing in the hallway by the music theatre where his co-worker Josh had the last block of the day spare to grade papers.

He was debating going into that room to talk to Josh. The two had never formally met; Tyler only saw him in the teachers lounge or the hallways, and they had only spoken once at an event for the community. But Tyler Joseph _really_ had a crush on Mr. Dun.

"Just go talk to him," Tyler muttered to himself and crossed his arms, leaned against the wall, and let out a deep sigh.

"Talk to who?" A voice answered his self talk.

Tyler looked up to find himself staring at the red mohawked Josh Dun himself, his jacket lazily thrown over his shoulder and a stack of papers firmly clutched in one hand. _God, he looked good today_. "Yoou-uh yikes," Tyler averted his eyes, seemingly incredibly interested in one particular dent in the cream coloured wall, and felt his cheeks heating up. He hated how awkward he was and how he stuttered when he was nervous.

"What's up, Joseph?" Josh asked and smiled brightly. He couldn't help but smile back just as widely. The man's smile was as bright as the sun and warm like a well-brewed cup of Earl Grey on an overcast day in the fall. His previously erratic nerves transformed into a quickened heart rate consisting of an explosion of fluttering butterflies in his chest.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go for lunch with me this weekend but I mean you don't have to but the offer is there and don't feel obligated to accept, I just thought you might like to and you seem cool. Iloveyourhair." Tyler's words spilled from his mouth faster than he thought they would and he simply couldn't stop them.

Josh raised his eyebrows in surprise at how quickly the guy could talk but softened his face into yet another heart melting smile. "Thank you, I just dyed it," he stated proudly. "Also, yes."

"It's great I love it, but you don't have to accept just because I complimented yo-wait." Tyler took a moment to think about what Josh had just said. "Yes?" He squeaked.

"I would love to go for lunch with you," he repeated confidentially.

"Oh gosh," Tyler scratched his head.

"Is something wrong?" Josh asked, looking worried. "Oh no, was that not the right answer..."

He laughed loudly, his nerves creeping back to kill whatever butterflies he had left lingering in the pits of his stomach. "No! I just... I didn't think I would get this far, so I don't know what to do now," he admitted dismally.

"Give me your phone." Josh took out his own phone and opened a new contact page before holding it out. Tyler dug into his back pocket and produced a black iPhone that he traded with Josh's beat up Samsung. The two punched in their information in silence and returned each other's phones. "Now, you can text me and we'll figure out the details over the week so we can go out on the weekend."

Tyler offered a small smile and nodded quietly. Josh walked past him. "See you on the weekend Tyler!" He called as he made his way to the front of the school.

"Bye," Tyler said quietly and waved a bit, still clearly in a daze that he didn't completely and utterly fuck that up.

But Tyler Joseph officially had a date with his long term crush, Joshua _fucking_ Dun.


	7. You're Fucking Dead, Iero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is weird. idk it's just. accept it. frikey tho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been over a week. feel free to bring out the pitchforks. and i want to write actual smut into this and not just himt but i'm worried it'll ruin the fic so you know, weigh in on that.
> 
> thank you so much to everyone who's been reading this though. i love you all

Mikey found himself  glaring at Frank from across the classroom. The younger was leaning back  in his chair, lip ring in between his teeth, texting underneath his  desk. He had a jumper on again, hood up and covering his hair besides  his dark fringe falling over his eyes. His signature black eyeliner  coated his eyelids and generally looked like he couldn't care any less  about his surroundings. 

Apparently the Way  brother had been staring for too long, because he found his own honey  eyes matched with green ones from across the room. Green ones that  happened to belong to his subject of interest. Frank's slightly dazed  expression quickly turned into a smug look as he stared right back, now  resting his head on his propped up arm.

He tore his gaze from  those incredible green eyes and tried to focus on Mr. Toro's lesson. Out  of the corner of his eye, he could still see Frank making obscene  gestures towards him that no one else seemed to notice. Mikey went to  discreetly flip him off but froze when he heard his name.

"Michael Way!" Mr. Toro yelled in a stern voice. "Did you just raise your middle finger in class?"

"No?" Mikey squeaked out, wide eyed. He could see Frank stifling his laughter and rolled his eyes at him. 

"Michael!" Ray yelled again. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, go wait outside of my classroom."

Mikey begrudgingly stood  up, knowing that argument wouldn't work in his favour. He slammed the  door behind him and leaned against the brick, staring up at the ceiling  lights.

After what seemed like  an eternity, the door opened and closed. Mikey kept his gaze focused on  the ceiling expecting Mr. Toro to be yelling at him some more for being  disruptive in class. Instead he felt himself being pulled down the  hallway by the wrist by Frank. 

"What the hell," Mikey  said in a sour tone. The younger didn't say a word and simply pulled him  into a supplies closet. "Seriously, he's going to kill me and you if he  comes out and doesn't find me. This is my last class of the day!"

"Shut the fuck up, Mikey Way," Frank hushed him and pushed him up against the door.

Just  as Mikey went to yell at him, he let out a moan instead at Frank's lips  firmly pressing against his own. This was definitely not what he had  expected, but he had to admit he didn't mind.

Mikey became a moaning mess under Frank's touch. He tried to stay quiet but  every time he thought he could stay silent, Frank's fingers would trail  somewhere that made him squirm.

Frank slowly moved down the taller's body, one hand pushing under his sweater and the other into the front of his jeans, then popped open Mikey's button with one snap of his fingers.

"We can't fuck in a supply closet," Mikey whispered loudly and swatted his hand away.

"But you clearly want to fuck me, Mikey Way." Frank smirked and looked up at him.

"No I do-oh Jesus," Mikey moaned when Frank firmly grabbed him through his boxers.

"Mhm, that's what I thought," Frank laughed. "Because I'm standing here with my hand down your pants holding your boner. Dunno what it looks like to you, but to me it means I definitely want to fuck you into the ground."

"You're a dick, Iero." Mikey paused, then laced his fingers through the younger's hair. "Stop fucking talking and fuck me then."

"Someone's eager," Frank teased but quickly pulled down the boy's pants and boxers. 

Of course, Ray Toro came out to talk to Mikey and look for Frank. And what he wasn't expecting was to find them both missing and nowhere near the classroom. He walked down the hall towards the main office. It was nearly 3:30pm, so the chances of finding anyone in the office to help were slim. Although Dallon tried to run a tight ship, the staff was simply lazy and Jamia Nestor almost always disappeared at 3pm.

Just as he passed the supply closet, he thought he heard something and stopped to listen. When nothing but silence surrounded him, he went to take a step forwards but immediately heard a familiar voice and name from the closet.

He backed up and walked up to the closet. "Oh fuck, Frank," he heard from inside and swiftly opened the door to find Mikey bent over a pile of cleaning supplies by none other than Frank fucking Iero.

Mikey stared at him, frozen except for his face contorting to form what could only be described as a petrified expression. Frank looked up and his eyes filled with the same fear as the older he was inside of's.

Ray was honestly speechless. He wasn't trained for this kind of thing. He had gone to school simply to be a teacher and was never told what to do if he found two students fucking in a god damn supply closet. The only thing he managed to sputter out was Frank's name prefaced by an original string of expletives.

The boy quickly pulled out, making Mikey gasp and cringe, then pulled up his jeans as quickly as possible. "Uh," he started but honestly had nothing to say.

"Get out!" Mikey yelled and covered his face, on the verge of tears. Ray quickly shut the door and turned around, waiting for the boys to make themselves proper before deciding what to do with them.

Except when the door opened and he turned around to give them a speech of some odd descript, all that could be seen was Frank running as quickly as he could to one of the side doors and disappearing.

 

-

 

Perhaps this wasn't the time Ryan should have been wandering around looking for his friends, considering it was already quarter to 6 at night. But he really needed to know where the fuck Brendon was, and why the fuck he seemed to be avoiding him.

He had searched almost the entire school in search of the stupid 16 year old with no luck, so he decided to go back to his room.

Once inside, he grabbed a lighter and joint out of his bedside and found himself climbing out of his window to go for a walk in the fields in the dark. 

What he didn't expect, however, was to find Brendon sitting against the building staring at the moon. He fell out of the window in surprise and the younger yelled, not expecting anyone to come around that area.

"Jesus Christ," Brendon muttered as Ryan lay on the hard dirt groaning in pain. "Are you okay?"

Ryan turned his head as much as he could to glare at the younger. "Does it look like I'm okay?"

Brendon stifled his laughter and helped the boy up, steadying him before they sat down on the ground together. "Why are you even out here?"

"Could ask you the same," Ryan replied in a sarcastic tone before fishing into his hoodie pocket to retrieve the joint and lighter. He brought it to his lips, receiving a disapproving look from the younger.

"I'm out here because I wanted to be alone, but look how well that worked," he muttered. "Since when did you start smoking all of my weed on your own anyways?"

Ryan sighed out a breath of smoke, "Since you started being such a stressful asshole."

"I'm not an asshole, you're the asshole Ross." Brendon grabbed the joint from his friend and took a long needy drag, holding it in longer than needed.

"How am I the asshole?" Ryan whisper-yelled in fear of being caught outside smoking weed.

Brendon shook his head, "You made me question myself. I'm fucking straight and yet me and you happened, it's not fair."

Ryan turned and stared at him. "I made you question yourself? You're so fucking selfish."

"Well you seemed to be fine with it all," Brendon snapped.

"How would you know? You fucking ran from it all and avoided me for days." Ryan stood up and brushed off his pants. 

He went to walk back to the window but Brendon grabbed his wrist. "Ryan, please let me explain."

The taller sighed and crossed his arms. "You have 5 minutes Urie, and if it's not a good explanation I'm requesting a room switch."

"I only left because I was embarrassed. Not of you, but because it happened quickly and I was doubting myself. If my family ever found out about any of this, they would completely disown me. I shouldn't have left, I admit that. I just... I don't have a good reason or excuse, the only thing I can do is apologize for being an asshole to you." 

Ryan's glare softened and he chewed on his lip. He dropped to his knees and leaned against Brendon's sitting form, pulling him into a hug. The two held onto each other in silence, joint still lit and burning held loosely between the younger's fingers. 

Brendon was the first to initiate anything this time. Their lips met in a soft kiss, slow and chaste. Ryan moved his arms up to rest on Brendon's shoulders, hands softly holding the back of his neck.

"It's okay," Ryan sighed against his lips. He probably shouldn't have been giving the younger another chance considering that they were both completely indecisive and emotional at the moment.

When Brendon's hand moved further south, Ryan placed his palm against his chest as a warning to slow down. Sex was the last thing that either needed, but they definitely needed closeness with anyone.

But all that was running through Brendon's mind was the familiar face of his headmaster, Dallon.

 

-

 

Gerard leaned against the building around the back in a spot most students didn't even know about. Some of them came there to smoke, but it wasn't used often. He took a long drag and tilted his head back, allowing the harsh smoke to infiltrate his lungs. The way it contrasted against the cool fall air could only be described as comfort.

He frowned at the sight that over half of his cigarette had been smoked already. He normally didn't go through them this quickly, but he needed it lately. His fingers lingered on what would be his third in the past fifteen minutes. Just as he pulled it out, a voice startled him and he jumped, fingers clamping around the thin stick of tobacco and snapping it in half. He frowned at the now useless cigarette and pushed out his lip, pouting a bit.

"Fancy seeing you out here, Mr. Way." Frank smirked and leaned against the wall.

"What do you need?" Gerard snapped and pulled out a new cigarette, tossing the broken one aside.

"Don't look so happy to see me," the younger replied sarcastically. He pulled out his own pack and brought one to his lips. "Got a light?" He asked.

Gerard glared at him but handed over the white lighter anyways. He watched how the boy lit it, quickly but sucked in as much smoke from the first drag as he could. Then he held it in, chewed on his lip ring, and let the smoke flow through his nose. He was so caught up watching how the boy smoked, he wasn't paying attention and caught the lighter to the face.

"What the fuck," Gerard snapped, leaning over to pick it up off the dirt.

"No swearing," Frank said in a mocking voice. "You zoned out and wouldn't take your god damn lighter back, so I figured your face could catch it."

"You're not supposed to be smoking you know."

"Neither are you, Gee," Frank countered.

"Don't call me that," Gerard muttered.

Frank only shrugged and sucked in another lungful of the severe smoke, holding it in as he spoke. "So why exactly have you been furiously chain smoking out here for the past twenty minutes?"

"How do you know what I'm doing?" He asked in surprise, his tone laced with a defensive edge.

The boy gestured to the fresh butts on the ground. "Context clues dear Gee. Context clues."

Gerard scowled at him and flicked the now depleted cigarette onto the others. "It's none of your business why I have been. I could write you up for even being out here and smoking, you know."

"Ah, more empty threats," Frank shook his head and giggled. "Yeah, you probably could. But you also could have written me up for multiple disturbances in class, dress code, inappropriate sexual behaviour, piercings, etc... But yet, you haven't."

And it was true. Gerard could have had him suspended by now, better yet expelled. But as much as the kid got on his nerves, he had a soft spot for him, though he would never admit to it in fear of fueling Frank's massive ego. Frank Iero was a massive asshole, and yet Gerard still liked him. Though he really shouldn't have any positive feelings towards the student that made his life a living hell on a daily basis.

"No, I haven't." He admitted and raked his fingers through his messy black hair. Suddenly his phone buzzed and he pulled out the device.

Frank's eyes flicked nervously from the phone to Gerard and he began backing up, inhaling the last of his cigarette as quickly as humanly possible, preparing to run. Just as he turned around to hide just in case the message was exactly what he thought it was, the sound of Gerard's voice infiltrated his mind and he flinched.

"Please tell me what I just read is not true," Gerard said in a loud desperate tone.

He slowly turned to his teacher, chewing on his lip ring. "Oops?" He laughed nervously."

Gerard narrowed his eyes at him. "You're fucking dead, Iero!"


	8. Blowjobs 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FUCK IT'S BEEN 12 YEARS I'M SO SORRY. this starts abruptly and ends with fluff so proceed at your own risk. ALSO, please remember the taser for next chapter bc if you've ever seen that panic video where they're shocking each other with spencer's stun gun, you know where i'm prolly gonna go with this

Ryan sighed and crossed his arms, looking up at the ceiling. Brendon pulled his mouth off the younger and rolled his eyes.

"What?" He asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Brendon cut his eyes at the brunet. "I just had your dick in my mouth, what does it look like I'm doing?"

The older shook his head, "No what are you doing with your jaw? It's weird."

"I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know if you're aware that I'm basically a _fucking virgin_."

"Feisty," Ryan muttered and placed his hand on the back of his head gently. "Let me help you."

The younger let him guide his mouth back onto Ryan's length. He placed his other hand under Brendon's jaw and bit his lip, trying to concentrate on guiding him instead of moaning. Brendon's eyes closed a bit.

"Look at me," Ryan spoke softly. The younger's eyes flicked up to meet his, and Ryan couldn't help but notice how appealing he looked on his knees.

As Brendon began moving his mouth, Ryan's breathing became heavier and he let out a few quiet moans.

"Ow, fuck." Ryan swore and Brendon pulled off again in exasperation. "Stand up, let me show you," he mumbled and dropped to his knees as Brendon stood up and pulled out his own fairly hard erection.

"Okay, try to actually pay attention to this." Ryan slowly began taking him into his mouth, allowing his tongue to trail the underside of his shaft while he let Brendon's length slide across his tongue.

The younger tipped his head back and let out a shaky moan as his tip touched the back of Ryan's throat. "F-fuck," he stuttered. Ryan continued to expertly maneuver his mouth, tracing patterns with his tongue and not even flinching as he deep throated, keeping eye contact.

"I'm," Brendon began but the older pulled off instantly. "What?" Brendon whined.

"Get me off and then I'll give you the best blowjob you've had in your life," Ryan smirked and stood up, pecking him on the lips and pressing the top of his head so the younger dropped to his knees.

"I hope you don't expect me to do what you just did," Brendon muttered and tentatively wrapped a hand around his roommate's length, bringing his lips to it. He placed an intimate kiss on the tip softly and dragged his lips down his length, causing Ryan to shudder and elicit a moan.

Brendon maintained eye contact as he worked Ryan's erection, the older's hand gently pressing into the back of his head, pushing him a bit deeper onto himself. Ryan became more and more vocal as he continued pumping him with his hand and his warm mouth enveloped his length.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," Ryan warned and pushed Brendon's head off of him so he could avoid finishing in his mouth. "God damn, Brendon."

The younger grinned up at him proudly and stood. Ryan went to wrap a hand around Brendon's erection, but they both dived under the covers when the door knob jiggled a bit.

"Ryan!" Jon's voice was heard from the other side of the door.

They stared at each other for a moment debating what to do. "Pretend to be asleep," Ryan whispered and got out of the bed, pulling his boxers on.

"What the fuck," Jon was saying before Ryan had even gotten the door open all the way. He glanced over his friend's shoulder and dropped his voice to a whisper when he spotted Brendon asleep. "I thought you were coming out tonight?"

Ryan stared at him with confusion and then swore under his breath, remembering the party he'd been invited to. He looked back at Brendon and rocked back and forth on his feet, debating going. "I'm getting ready," he lied to Jon and grabbed a pair of jeans off the ground.

Brendon cracked an eye open just enough to see Ryan hurrying to get dressed, grabbing his coat, and slipping out of the door behind Jon. And just like that, Brendon found himself entirely alone _again_ and unsure of anything.

 

-

 

"I've got a taser!" Tom announced, walking into his last class of the day, waving around a black rod with a metal end.

"What the fuck," Xian hopped off his desk and grabbed the object from the boy. "Where the hell did you get this?"

Tom shrugged and sat down in his desk, his friends all were captivated by the toy. Aubrey seized it and pressed the button, jumping at the loud buzzing noise. "Holy shit," he whispered.

"I dare you to electrocute someone with that," Mark smirked and pulled out his phone to video.

"Who?" Aubrey asked, scanning the classroom and eyes landing on Frank.

Frank noticed the boy staring at him, taser in hand, and he raised an eyebrow. "Better stay on that side of the class motherfucker or I'll knock you out."

Aubrey walked towards him anyways, pressing the button and giggling. "Scared of a little electricity, Frankie?" He teased.

"Get that thing away from me or so help me God, Aubrey," Frank warned, getting out of his desk and backing away a bit. The metal made contact and Frank screamed bloody murder as a jolt of electricity was sent through his body. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?!" He yelled and hit him in the neck.

"What the fuck?" Aubrey yelled back, holding his throat.

"I told you I'd knock you out, you little shit," He muttered and rubbed his arm where he had gotten shocked, swearing under his breath.

Tom walked over and grabbed the taser. "It can't even be that bad, you big baby," he said and pressed the button a couple times before bringing it to Aubrey's skin. "You want a count down?"

"Uh yes?"

"1.. 2.. Syke," he announced as he pressed the button down. Aubrey yelled and bent over, letting out a string of expletives and groaning in pain.

"Told you so," Frank mumbled and crossed his arms, sitting down back in his seat.

"Everyone in their seats," Mr. Smith announced in a bored tone, taking off his jacket and draping it across the back of his chair. Aubrey and Tom exchanged panicked looks but the ginger skipped to his desk quickly, taser still in hand but hidden behind his back. "Today I'm not in the mood for any funny business, so let's keep this lesson on track and if anyone wants to screw around, they can spend the rest of their week in Mr. Weekes' office doing extra assignments."

Mark leaned forwards and whispered to Aubrey, "Tase Smith."

"Mr. Hoppus, do you have something you'd like to share with the class?" Spencer asked, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

"Uh, no?" Mark's voice went high as he glanced at the taser behind Aubrey's back.

Aubrey turned to look back at Frank and Xian, the two staring back at him with horror as Spencer began walking down the aisle towards Mark's desk. Frank shook his head and mouthed the word 'no' as he saw Aubrey's finger drift towards the button.

Tom stared at Aubrey as he brought the taser out to the aisle and the end grazed the teacher's leg, Mark subtly filming under his desk. A spark of electricity was sent through the man's leg and he tensed up. "Fuck!" He yelled and grabbed his leg, his eyes darting down to see Aubrey staring at him with the taser in hand. He pointed a finger at the boy, "You. Get _out_ of my class!"

"It's not mine," Aubrey protested but Spencer grabbed it out of his hand.

"Weekes' office, _now_ ," he commanded and rubbed his temples. "Who's fucking stun gun is this?" The class remained quiet, exchanging nervous glances. "Well? It has to be someone, and if no one tells whose it is, you all get to stay in this class working on assignments until I find out."

Mark and Xian looked at each other apprehensively and Xian began raising his hand, much to Mark's horror.

"Yes, Mr. Ollerenshaw," he called to Xian.

"It's mine," the blue haired boy lied and snatched the taser from the ginger.

"Both of you can go to Mr. Weekes' office, _with_ the taser, and I don't want to see you back in this class," Spencer said in a surprisingly even tone, considering he was in fact on the brink of committing double homicide and couldn't care less if he was sentenced to life because it would at least get him away from the shitty beings he called his students.

The two silently exited the class, the rest of the boys remaining just as quiet. Spencer stood facing the board, leaning his forehead against the whiteboard and breathing deeply. He stood there for a few minutes, nobody daring to move or say a word. Well nobody except Frank Iero.

"Are you gonna teach the fucking lesson or not, Smith?" He piped up and chewed on the end of his pencil.

Spencer slowly turned around, an expression that read pure murder painted on his face, and glared at the boy. Neither of them spoke, only looked at each other, Frank not feeling threatened as he didn't have much in the ways of a conscience or gut feelings, only using the vague sense of impulsiveness he possessed to be an asshole in order to make his own decisions.

"You can get out of my class as well," Spencer growled.

"You wouldn't want to send me to Dally-boy's office, would you? I mean think logically now, Dallon probably is going to be pissed off enough by those two... He surely wouldn't want to deal with a situation as trivial as this?" Frank retorted, smirking to himself and looking generally egotistical at the moment.

"You know what? You're right," Spencer grinned, leaving Frank looking slightly confused. "I'm sending you to your homeroom for the rest of the week, Mr. Way can deal with you." 

Frank stared at him with dread. Mr. Way was the last person he wanted to say, in fact he'd gone as far as scheduling how to skip all of his classes until next week without being caught already. But now he would have to spend every school hour with the arrogant ass and feel the consequences from fucking his little brother in a supply closet.

"Will that be a problem?" He asked.

"Uh, no," Frank lied and stood up, collecting his stuff and walking towards the door with slow steps, the class still remaining quiet as he walked out, trying to look confident but failing as he internally panicked at having to face Gerard again.

In all reality, he was being even more of a major asshole to Gerard because he _liked_ him. Frank Iero officially had a crush on a teacher.

 

-

 

Tyler sat in his classroom after class, fingers absent-mindedly tapping the oak desk. He was waiting for Josh to come and get him for their date, the one that he had miraculously secured a few days prior. His door opened quietly but he didn't notice. He was too busy having a mild nervous breakdown in anticipation.

He looked up at him, eyes wide. He could feel his mouth fill with panic like weeds. _Say something_ , he thought to himself. No sound. No words. "Ehh," was all he managed to get out and earned a weird look from Josh. 

"Are you ready?" Josh asked and twirled his keys around his index finger, leaning against the desk lightly. Tyler nodded coyly and pushed himself up to stand next to the man awkwardly. He swung his arms awkwardly by his side and hummed to himself, waiting for Josh to make the first move. "After you, sir," he winked and held the door open for him.

Tyler blushed and had to remind himself to walk forwards rather than stand about looking awkward. He took a step and thanked the Lord in his head that he didn't manage to trip and break his neck and make it weird for Josh. Instead he opted for a small nod and smile, concentrating on his steps as they walked towards the parking lot underground.

"What do you think?" Josh asked, alerting Tyler that he had been concentrating on his steps so much that he'd totally tuned the boy out.

"About what?" Tyler asked, genuinely confused.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" Josh asked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lip. He couldn't help but acknowledge how Tyler could get totally and completely involved in something in his mind and tune out the world. He noticed it happened every time he would write something in his spare time. Josh could tell it wasn't homework he was grading, because he had seen him grading homework and he tended to just look bored when he was doing that. Josh reckoned he would like to read something Tyler had written some time.

"Uh... No, I'm sorry," Tyler admitted in a small voice.

"S'okay," Josh shrugged and started his car. "I was just wondering what your thoughts were on music?"

Tyler's whole face lit up at the mention of music. Josh had no idea, but music was Tyler's biggest passion besides writing and he supposed that a lot of what he wrote ended up in his music anyway.

"I love it," Tyler grinned, now moving with confidence and unable to keep his smile off his face.

"Great!" Josh replied, his smile growing at the sight of Tyler's excitement. "Because we're going to an arts performance tonight. There's poetry and music and stuff. I dunno, it's kinda dumb though," he laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

"No!" Tyler yelled a bit too loudly, then blushed as he stared at the ground, kicking a rock across the pavement. "No, I'm excited. That sounds really good actually."

The drive to the venue was quiet, both of them thinking out possible conversations and how the date would go, both with a good amount of nerves for their date. Josh tried to keep his eyes forwards but found them lingering on Tyler momentarily but he snapped them back to the road when Tyler glanced at him. The two smiled to themselves, Tyler feeling a blush creeping up his neck.

As they pulled into the parking lot, Tyler had to take a few deep breaths before stepping out of the car. They awkwardly stood waiting for the other to make the first move towards the venue, when Josh leaned forwards and pecked him on the cheek, holding onto his hand. Tyler stumbled back a bit and blushed furiously, staring at him in shocked.

Josh Dun had fucking _kissed_ him. And maybe, he was totally okay with that.


	9. Dress Me, Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw; drug use//overdose
> 
> this only has 2 parts bc if i kept in the third it'd be like 3500 words whoops.

"What the fuck, dude?" Dallon muttered, closing the door behind Brendon as he shuffled into his office and slumped into the all too familiar hard chair across from his desk. "Can you not go one day without getting sent to my office?"

"Are you mad at me?" Brendon asked in a small voice and kept his eyes fixed on the brass placard that laid on his head master's desk.

Dallon sighed and sat down in his desk chair softly. "No, I'm not mad at you although I really should be. Seriously, you're gonna make me go grey or something," he admitted and self consciously ran his fingers through his brown hair.

"If it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't look half bad with grey hair," Brendon teased and smiled at him. While Dallon went into a minor existential crisis, the younger scanned his office, his eyes falling on a black rod that looked like a flashlight. "You shouldn't bring your sex toys to work Mr. Weekes," he gasped.

He turned towards him quickly and raised his eyebrows. " _What_?"

Brendon gestured towards the object sitting on top of his filing cabinet. Dallon groaned loudly and shut his eyes tightly. "It's a stun gun."

"Kinky, still shouldn't be in your office unless you have some ulterior motive," Brendon leaned back in his chair and smirked.

"It's not a fucking sex toy," Dallon said defensively and crossed his arms.

"Depends on what you're into," Brendon continued to tease.

Dallon glared at him as the boy stood up and picked it up, inspecting it. "Mr. Smith confiscated it from Xian."

"First of all, this is definitely not Xian's. The kid may be a shit, but he's not stupid enough to bring something like this to school," he stated plainly and pressed the button, jumping a bit at the loudness of the shock and started laughing uncontrollably.

"Please don't hurt yourself," he sighed and watched as Brendon brought the metal to his skin tauntingly.

"It can't be that bad," Brendon giggled, making Dallon cringe as his finger got closer to the button. Before the teacher could stop him, the boy's finger pressed down and the electricity made contact with his skin. Brendon moaned and gasped simultaneously, turning his back to Dallon and breathing heavily.

Dallon shot up out of his chair and grabbed the taser from him. "Fuck, are you okay?" he asked in a worried tone as he placed a hand on his back. Brendon could only nod quickly and try to hide his red face and slight problem below the belt. "Did you moan?"

" _You_ moaned," Brendon countered and stood up, groaning.

"I didn't even touch the stupid taser," Dallon spat and turned him around to face him.

"I don't have a pain kink, I don't know what you're on about."

Dallon stared at him like he had grown an extra head and knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "I never accused you of any kink!" Dallon shouted and threw his hands up in exasperation.

Brendon chewed on his lip and approached his teacher, stopping when he was barely inches away from him. Dallon looked at the ceiling and sighed. "What are you doing Brendon?"

"Just relax," the boy mumbled and placed his hand on his chest, causing Dallon's breath to hitch in his throat. Before he could protest or his conscience could stop the younger one, Brendon went on his toes and planted a kiss on his lips.

He was still for a moment, not sure of how to react. Then slowly, he wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and began moving his lips against his. The kiss was chaste at first, the two of them just innocently exploring each others lips, a hand gently grazing over a cheekbone, another shakily touching the curve of a waist.

Then Brendon's tongue sinfully flicked across his lips, earning a quiet whimper from Dallon.

That's when Brendon pulled back, wide eyed. "Fuck," he whispered and looked down, face saturated with embarrassment.

Dallon stared at him, dazed. "What?" He asked and cocked his head.

"I shouldn't have kissed you again," Brendon sobbed and hit the wall next to Dallon. "Fuck!"

"You're not wrong," Dallon admitted but chewed his lip pensively. "But maybe it's not such a bad thing?"

Brendon looked at him, tears in his eyes threatening to spill down his cheeks. "It is though," he mumbled. "I can't have you and Ryan at the same time."

The older stayed quiet, leaning against the wall and thinking. They stood in an awkward silence, both mentally cursing themselves for even giving into the temptation of each other.

"I should probably go to my next class," Brendon said sheepishly and took a step towards the door but his teacher grabbed his wrist.

"No," Dallon pleaded and pulled him closer to him. "We need to figure this out. Plus, I still have to give you shit for whatever you were sent here for in the first place."

Brendon let out a small laugh and nodded. "I guess."

Dallon gestured towards the chair and sat down in his own. "So why exactly did you get sent to me again?"

"There may have been a minor fire in the art room..."

 

-

 

After an hour, Gerard decided Frank was avoiding him and went looking for him. He quickly learned that _nobody_ had heard from the sixteen year old since yesterday. He had also learned there was a party down the road that multiple students had seen Frank at but never saw him leave.

He decided to go to his room first, and was surprised to see the door partially open and his room mate Xian quietly sitting on his bed listening to some indie band.

Even more surprising was to see Frank's bed occupied, vomit filled rubbish bin by it, and possibly some blood on the ground.

"Is he okay?" Gerard asked, leaning against the door frame of Xian's dorm and gestured towards the lump under what looked like at least five heavy blankets. The blue haired boy only shrugged, looking confused as to why his room mate was groaning and shaking underneath the blanket. He took a step towards his bed and placed a hand on what he could only assume was his shoulder. "Frank?" He asked in a small voice and shook him a bit.

"No," Frank sobbed and writhed around in pain.

Gerard pulled the blankets back to inspect the boy. He was shaking, clammy and pale. His makeup had basically been rubbed off besides some leftover on his tear-stained cheeks. He put his hand on his forehead and cringed at how warm his skin was. "Did he just wake up like this?" He asked Xian.

"He's probably fine," the boy replied. "He tried to sneak in a few hours ago, but he was fucked up. Like, I don't know if he was drunk or high but he was _messed_. So he went to bed and immediately woke up an hour later just fuckin' retching. If you ask me, I think your favourite student overdosed."

"And you didn't think to tell anyone?" Gerard asked in a bitter tone.

"I'm not a fucking rat."

Gerard shoved Frank, "Did you take something?" He asked loudly. Frank covered his ears and slammed his eyes shut, but Gerard only grabbed his hands. "What did you take?"

Frank shook his head, leaning over the side of his bed and dry heaving, unable to even spit into the bucket by his bed. "Fuck," he muttered and pushed his sweat soaked hair out of his face.

"Help me get him up," Gerard told Xian and slung his arms over his shoulders, dragging the half naked boy out of his bed while the blue haired boy supported the rest of his body. He pulled the boy towards the showers, sitting him down on the tile underneath one and pulled off his socks and jeans before turning the water on full blast on cold.

"What the fuck!" Frank screamed and scrambled to crawl out of the stream but Gerard held him under with his foot. The boy fought a bit, but ultimately ended up groaning and accepting it, leaning his head back and sighing deeply.

"What did you take?" Gerard asked again, firm in tone.

Frank shrugged. "Pills," he mumbled.

"What kind of pills?"

Frank only shook his head and shrugged again. "Dunno," he slurred and shut his eyes.

Gerard raked his hand through his hair and exhaled in annoyance. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered and leaned against the wall opposite the showers, cringing as he heard Frank throw up whatever he had left in his already-emptied stomach and heave for a few moments afterward. "Turn off the shower and get him up," he told Xian and closed his eyes, trying to think of what he was going to do about the kid.

Frank swore at the boy but obliged, standing up and immediately shivering as he stood completely drenched and only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. "F-fucking hell, it's c-cold," he grumbled and rubbed his arms, teeth chattering.

"Dry off," Gerard spat and tossed a towel towards him. The boy caught the material and tried to dry himself but kept dropping it as his hands trembled. Gerard groaned and walked over. "Can you not do anything yourself?" He asked sarcastically and began roughly drying off his skin and wrapped the towel around his lower half. "Come on, we're going back to your room so you can get dressed, and I'll take you to the hospital."

"No," Frank moaned and pulled off the towel, turning away from his teacher and dropping his boxer briefs, much to Gerard's surprise, before wrapping the towel around his now nude lower half.

"Do you seriously have a smiley face tattooed onto your ass?" Gerard snorted and earned a glare from Frank.

"Yeah he does, he never fucking wears clothes," Xian sighed and crossed his arms.

"Can we discuss my ass somewhere else?" Frank muttered and stormed towards the hallway, towel flapping violently behind him, barely covering his important bits, leaving Xian and Gerard to suppress their giggles.

They followed him back to his room, Gerard scanning the halls for anyone and Xian yawning, rubbing his eyes with tiredness. Frank let the towel drop the minute he walked through the doorway, making Xian groan in annoyance while Gerard looked away.

"Frank!" He yelled, shielding his eyes from Frank's now bare lower half. "You can't just be naked around me. It's not appropriate."

"I don't give a fuck," Frank stuttered and fell onto his bed. "Someone help me get into bed."

"Frank, no." Gerard shook his head in disbelief and walked over to his bed. "You have to go to the hospital."

Frank grabbed Gerard's arm and pulled him onto the bed, almost on top of him. "Stay with me," he mumbled and wrapped his arm around him. "Fuck, you're cold."

"And you're naked," Gerard groaned and rolled his eyes. "I can stay for a bit but you have to put pants on."

"Fuck pants," he grumbled, burying his face into his teacher's shoulder and moaning in pain. "Please don't leave me," he whispered, barely audible, but Gerard definitely heard it and tensed up a bit.

"Frank, please let me put on your pants and I'll take off my jacket and stay with you," he asked firmly, pushing the small boy off of him.

Frank rolled off the bed and laid on the ground, face down, moaning in pain. "Dress me, daddy," he mumbled.

"Xian, can you get me some of his boxers or something?" He asked in a tired voice. The boy immediately grabbed a pair of comic book boxers off the ground and threw them at Gerard. He raised an eyebrow and held them away from him a bit. "Are these.. Clean?"

Xian only shrugged and picked up his phone and charger, "Prolly. I'm gonna go to Aubrey's room or something, give you two some privacy."

Before Gerard could even begin to protest, the door was closing behind him and he was left with a drugged up, naked, and sick teenager on the ground in front of him. He sighed and locked the door, kicking off his shoes and tossing his jacket and tie onto Xian's bed. He debated taking off his trousers but kept them on as he pulled Frank off the ground, which was a lot harder than he thought, considering the boy was all of four feet tall. He laid him on the bed and pulled his boxers onto him with a bit of a struggle as Frank kept grabbing onto him and moaning.

"Stay," He mumbled before pulling Gerard down onto him and holding him in a death grip. Gerard could only comply, using his free hand to unbutton the top couple buttons on his dress shirt and pull out his phone to text Dallon, asking for a supply teacher for the day knowing he couldn't leave Frank alone when he was like this for awhile considering he hadn't taken the drugs that long ago.

He had barely drifted off when he woke up with a start, unsure of what was going on until he glanced over at the boy curled into his side. Gerard squinted at him, still drowsy and a bit confused, but then he realized what was wrong.

Frank wasn't breathing.


	10. No One Has To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> man i'm terrible at updating. sorry the quality is becoming increasingly worse but yaknow. shit happens. sorrynotsorry about the cliff hanger last chapter but i am satan

Patrick slumped into his desk, awaiting art and sighed, immediately moving to rest his head on the cold surface.

Today was not a good day for Patrick Stump.

He had slept in and rushed to shower, finding himself stuck with the cold water since he was so late. Then he couldn't find his maths assignments he had slaved over the night before. He lost his fedora in the sea of dirty clothes that covered him and Oli's floor, and didn't have time to look for it. Oli tried his best to help but the boy could barely find his pants, never mind his roommate's hat.

"Hope you guys are all having a good morning," Pete said brightly as he strode into the classroom. He had cut his hair and wore a tight black button up instead of some weirdly coloured jumper.

"Where the fuck is my brother?" Mikey spat.

"I have no idea but I've got a spare this morning and you guys need an art teacher, so here I am."

"Can you even do art?" Xian asked with a smirk.

Pete sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. "Great, you're in this class. I can do art for your information. But I'm probably not going to be teaching you guys much today because we all know that Mr. Way is weirdly anal about everything and if I attempted to conduct a lesson, he would have an aneurysm because I would do it wrong. So let's just treat this as a free period, and no tasers because we don't need a repeat of Mr. Smith's class yesterday. Yes, that is directed at you, Xian. I don't feel like going through the whole list, so is anyone not here?"

The class looked around quietly, nobody saying much until Ryan spoke up, "Uh has anyone seen Frank?"

"He's sick, already been excused from class as far as I know," Xian lied, his voice a little louder than necessary.

"Somehow I don't think he's conventionally sick, but okay. Iero's missing," Pete scribbled something onto a post-it note and leaned back in his chair.

"Why did you cut your hair?" Brendon asked.

"Why don't you cut yours, Beatles boy?" Pete retorted with a shit-eating grin.

"I reckon his forehead would just consume him if he revealed it," Ryan snorted, earning a punch in the arm from the boy.

"I hope his forehead is bigger than his dick," a new kid with brown and blue hair smirked.

"I think Pete's hair looks fine," Patrick mumbled.

"You got a crush, Stump?" Aubrey taunted.

"Can I be excused?" Mikey spoke up, desperation laced through his voice as he fully realized that his brother and Frank were both missing from class.

"Uh go ahead," Pete replied, raising an eyebrow as the kid practically sprinted out of the classroom to his house with only one thing on his mind; Frank Iero.

Oliver stood up on his desk suddenly, red paint and paintbrush in hand and began yelling, "I ejaculate fire!" He yelled and shoved the painbrush in his pants, thrusting violently as paint splattered across the room.

"Get off the fucking desk, Mr. Noyes!" Pete yelled and jumped up from his desk.

Just as Oli went to flip him off, he stepped on a puddle of paint and fell backwards with a gruesome whack, the jar of paint flying from his hand and hitting Pete directly in the face. The class fell into complete silence as the boy picked himself up and Pete wiped a glob of paint off his face. Oli sat awkwardly on a broken desk, staring at the teacher who was glaring back with murder growing in his expression.

Pete pointed a finger at him and began screaming, "Get out! Go to Weekes' office or something, I don't fucking care but out!"

 

-

 

Frank Iero felt like a fucking train had run over him multiple times.

The first thing Frank did when he woke up was throw up whatever he had left in his stomach, which wasn't much, tears streaming down his face as his throat burned from the bile.

The second thing he did was freeze because he was fucking confused.

This wasn't the last thing he remembered doing. He remembered taking a handful of pills and finishing off 3/4 of a 40 of vodka as he walked back to his school. But now he was waking up in a big comfortable king sized bed on some tacky sheets with flowers on them under a god damn leopard printed fleece throw.

"What the fuck," he muttered to himself.

The next thing he did was realize that he only had his pants on and couldn't see his trousers or even a shirt anywhere else in the large room. He threw the blankets to the side and sat up, clutching his head momentarily as another wave of nausea washed over him. After taking a minute to compose himself, he grabbed the leopard print fleece and pulled it over his shoulders before journeying into the rest of the house. Because as much as he liked being mostly naked, he wasn't exactly sure who's house this was and if they'd appreciate or even deserve to see the boy naked.

He stood in the hallway, listening down the stairs and hearing nothing at all, just deafening silence. He could have just gone back to bed, and he would have, if it wasn't for the unmistakable sound of a door unlocking.

Frank found himself sneaking down the stairs slowly and quietly, trying to get a look at whoever had entered the house.

Until he stepped on the end of the fleece and flew down the last 5 steps with a loud crash, followed by an obscene amount of expletives.

"What th-" a voice started but immediately cut off when they arrived to the scene of the accident.

Frank looked up and immediately felt a sense of dread when his eyes met the one and only, Mikey fucking Way. The two sat in silence for an indefinite amount of time before they both exploded screaming at each other, which drew Gerard back inside from his smoke break on his back step.

"What is going on here?" Gerard yelled and took in the scene. Frank had long since dropped the blanket and Mikey was on the verge of tears.

"What the fuck?" They both asked the man simultaneously.

"Mikey why are you here?" Gerard asked, annoyance dripping from his tone.

"Why are _you_ at home?" Mikey countered and crossed his arms. "Better yet, why is _Frank_ here? And in nothing but his pants?!"

Gerard sighed and shifted his weight to the other foot, debating how to word the situation. "It's complicated," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor.

"You clearly are fucking him," Mikey spat and shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"Whoa," Frank held up his hands. "No he's not. I haven't done anything with your brother yet."

"Yet?" Gerard asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not yet, daddy," Frank smirked.

Mikey made a gagging noise and walked towards the front door. "You are absolutely fucking unbelievable, Iero."

"Aw sweetie, I know I'm good but I didn't know you thought I was unbelievable in bed," Frank teased. Mikey only walked out, swearing at the boy indirectly.

"Was that really necessary?" Gerard asked, leaning against the staircase.

"No," Frank snorted and smiled. "Why am I in your house though?"

"You overdosed," Gerard said solemnly and crossed his arms. "You weren't breathing and refused to go to the hospital. Plus, if the school found out you would've gotten kicked out immediately because most of the teachers hate you already. So I got you breathing, snuck you out before lunch, and brought you home."

For the first time, Frank really didn't have much to say. He didn't really gauge how much alcohol he had drank before accepting a bunch of pills from some guy with greasy long hair. Plus, he didn't think Mr. Way would even care enough to help him, especially the effort to not let him get kicked out. In fact, he had been sure the man hated him.

"Thank you?" Frank squeaked and scratched the back of his neck.

"It's fine," Gerard smiled and gestured towards the kitchen. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Uh, doesn't this make you uncomfortable?" Frank gestured at his bare torso and legs.

"Sweetie, you wouldn't keep your clothes on last night." Gerard laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Nice smiley face tattoo by the way." Frank's eyes widened as a blush creeped onto his face. "Don't worry," Gerard reassured him, "You can borrow some of my clothes, There should be some old stuff in the back of the closet. Feel free to shower, bathroom's attached to my bedroom. Oh and you have a cute ass."

"Shut up," Frank mumbled and made his way back upstairs, dragging the leopard fleece behind him.

Once he reached the bedroom he'd woken up in, he opened the closet and pushed the clothes aside to find a bunch of band shirts hanging up and destroyed jeans. After he picked an outfit he stepped into the bathroom and immediately removed his boxer briefs, stretching and examining the shower.

"How the fuck..." He muttered and stared at the knobs inside.

"Need some help?" Gerard chuckled, appearing leaning in the door frame.

Frank squealed a bit and his hands flew to cover himself. "You can't just fucking sneak up on me like that!"

"I thought you heard me come up," he held his hands up defensively but took a step toward the shower. "Here I'll show you."

Frank glanced at him as his teacher leaned forward to turn on the shower, noticing how close the two were.

Gerard must have noticed it too, as they both turned their heads towards each other.

They stayed staring at each other until the older's eyes flicked down to his lips before Frank closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth against Gerard's.

He pushed Frank against the glass of the shower and deepened the kiss, the two of them grabbing each other and eliciting small moans and gasps. They moved in sync with each other until Gerard tore his lips away and rested his head on the glass, breathing heavily.

"What?" Frank asked breathlessly, his fingers trailing over his swollen lips.

"We can't do this," Gerard whispered and stood up, searching Frank's face for some type of response.

"No one has to know," he murmured into Gerard's neck, a hand trailing up his thigh earning a shaky moan from the teacher.

After a couple seconds of pondering, he only laughed harshly and dipped his head forwards, connecting his lips to Frank's neck. "Fuck it."

 

-

 

Ryan sat on the stage in the music room, guitar laying next to him and his laptop open on his lap. The class was generally quiet today, Oliver and Frank were both missing from class, the blue streaked brunet having been sent to the office within the first class of the day after managing to break four desks simultaneously and staining the walls with red acrylic paint in a very serial-killer-esque fashion.

They were basically all working on their theory papers, taking notes or reading articles about whatever they had decided to write about.

Brendon had been pretty quiet the past couple days, keeping to himself and not talking much or getting into trouble, much to _everyone's_ surprise. He sat a few feet away from Ryan, aimlessly playing the same string over and over, staring off at the wall.

"Hey," Ryan called to him, gesturing towards his own guitar and beckoned him to come over to him. Brendon slowly butt-scooted towards the boy, too lazy to actually find the motivation to stand up and only prayed his cord was long enough that he wouldn't have to move the small amp with him.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing for this year's band?" He asked.

"Dunno."

"Are you okay?"

Brendon only shrugged, continuing to finger the same string absentmindedly while Ryan stared at him in confusion.

"Is this about me leaving for that party the other day?" He sighed.

"You're real good at context clues, aren't you Ross?" Brendon muttered and cast his glare at the ground, his fingers moving onto the next string.

Ryan glanced down at the guitar and rolled his eyes. He then pushed his laptop off his lap and grabbed Brendon's guitar, tossing it aside roughly.

"Are you fuckin-" Brendon started but was cut off when the older dove forwards onto him and smashed his lips against his, causing the both of them to fall against the ground and everyone to turn and stare at the boys.

Mr. Dun was grading papers but his attention was drawn to the commotion on stage. He watched as Brendon shoved him off and began yelling at him but then they started making out again.

"Should I stop them?" Josh asked in an unsure tone.

Jon leaned against his desk, bass in hand and shrugged, "Nah. They'll work it out, just give it a minute."


	11. The Appeal of Miniskirts (On Mikey Way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [is literally the worst at updating]

Dallon walked up and down the halls frantically, searching for two missing students that had been seen sneaking off grounds the night before. He walked up to Mr. Smith's class and stepped in.

"Sorry to interrupt, but has anyone seen Aubrey Eckland or Frank Iero?" He asked the class.

"Xian said Frank was sick," Dan replied and bounced his pen off the desk repetitively.

"Xian's full of shit," Jon snorted and leaned back in his chair.

"Language," Dallon warned. "What do you mean? Is he not sick?"

"Not conventionally," Jon shrugged.

Dallon stared at the boys, not entirely sure of what they were hinting at.

Jon squinted at the man and pursed his lips, debating telling him or not, when Oli suddenly burst through the door, practically falling over in the process.

"Where the fuck is Frank?" He yelled, his line of vision falling on the headmaster.

"Nice of you to join the class Mr. Noyes, but I think you'll be finding yourself spending the rest of it in the office," Dallon replied and ushered him out of the class.

"Look, I'm happy to spend the rest of the day in your office, but right now I really have to find Frank," Oli explained.

"Why?"

"Long story short, we all went to a party last night and I lost him," Oli admitted, not wanting to get anyone in trouble. "I just need to know if he's okay."

Dallon searched the boy's face for any hint of a lie but found nothing and sighed, "Go ahead but you get to spend all of tomorrow in m-."

Before he could finish, Oli was running down the hallway yelling something about loving Mr. Weekes as he ran directly to the computer lab to find Frank's roommate, Xian.

The door was slightly ajar, so Oliver did the only acceptable thing in that type of urgent situation, and air kicked the door open.

"Uh, welcome?" Mr. Lester said in an uncertain tone as he stared at the brunet standing in the doorway, completely out of breath, and the door basically taken off the hinges at that point.

"Xian!" Oli yelled into the class, waving his arms manically, entirely ignoring Phil's presence. "I lost Frank."

A few kids talked under their breath, confused about the general situation, but mostly confused as to who the hell Frank was.

"He's literally in bed, he's sick," Xian replied, equally confused.

"No he isn't?"

Xian stared at him before remembering the events from the night before. "Shit."

Phil looked between the two boys, unsure of what to do now that his entire classroom was talking in hushed tones, completely ignoring their assignment on the computers. "Mr. Bailey, what's going on with Mr..." he trailed off, not knowing Oli's name.

"Noyes," Oli interjected, "And I lost his roommate so now we gotta go find him if you don't mind excusing him for the class."

"Have you called him?" Phil suggested, leaning against the desk and loosening his tie.

Oli and Xian exchanged a glance before they both slowly shook their heads.

"I'll excuse you Xian, but only because this sounds serious," Phil sighed and wrote on a slip, handing him the pink paper. "Try to keep track of your friends better Mr. Noyes."

"Yes sir," Oli yelled and saluted the teacher.

 

-

 

Brendon found himself sliding down the wall of the acoustic room in Mr. Dun's class, where the teacher had a spare block and had left it unlocked.

And really, he shouldn't be sitting in there choking out sobs instead of finishing getting ready for the musical event Mr. Weekes was supposed to drive him to in twenty minutes, but he couldn't deal with anything. He had a panic attack in between classes and just couldn't fucking deal.

He used to be afraid that the people around him wouldn't accept his sexuality. His biggest fear had been his parents completely denying him of his sexuality and disowning him. But in all reality, the biggest homophobe had been himself.

He had tried to ignore it at first. If he didn't give into it, it might have gone away. However he knew that wasn't the case at all. The sooner he'd accepted it, he wouldn't have found himself going into self-destruct mode on a regular basis.

Brendon stared at the wall in front of him, covered in instruments, his eyes blurring the maple neck of one guitar with the blue painted ukulele below it. "Faggot, faggot, faggot," he whispered to himself before letting out another strangled cry.

"Brendon?" A soft voice came from the doorway.

He hadn't even heard the doors opening, but turned his head to look up at a blurry Dallon Weekes in the doorway.

Brendon wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. "Shit," he muttered.

"Are you okay?" Dallon took a step towards him and crouched beside him. He reached out to place his hand on the younger's shoulder but Brendon flinched away.

"I'm fine," he immediately whispered and covered his face with hands. "Really, I'm fine."

Dallon sat down across from him, trying to awkwardly fold his long legs in a way they wouldn't be in Brendon's way. "You're obviously not fine if you're crying," he said bluntly and frowned. "Is it the concert? Do you not want to do it?"

"No!" Brendon instantly defended," No, oh my God absolutely no. I'm excited for that. This is just..." he trailed off and sighed.

"Is this about the gay thing?" Dallon asked in a quieter tone, unsure of whether bringing it up would help or not. Brendon nodded meekly but didn't reply. They sat in silence, both not quite knowing how to proceed.

Dallon made eye contact with him and gave him a sympathetic look, but the boy threw himself forwards in response, pressing his lips against his head teacher's. Dallon responded instantly, knotting his fingers into his hair and leaning him back against the wall, his body hovering over Brendon's.

Brendon pushed Dallon down against the ground and straddled him, reconnecting their lips immediately as Dallon's hands grasped his waist firmly. He began undoing the buttons on his teacher's shirt, desperately pulling at his tie and trouser's zippers at the same time.

"Are you sure?" Dallon asked once Brendon had sat up and discarded his shirt, one hand resting on the prominent bulge laying underneath the exposed thin boxer material.

"Yes," he squeaked out. That was all Dallon needed to lift Brendon easily and slam him into the wall behind them. A guitar fell off with a loud bang but neither of them paid much mind to it.

However, one student did take notice of the commotion in the small room. That student happened to have left his music booklet in the class and wouldn't have even investigated if he hadn't heard the distinct sound of an instrument breaking.

Brendon moaned and turned his head to expose his neck to Dallon, completely in bliss, but his eyes snapped open when he heard a gasp from the doorway.

There stood Ryan Ross, black notebook clutched in hand, pale white and completely in shock.

Brendon pushed Dallon off of him and raised his hands defensively, "I can explain."

"I- Oh m- Wha-," Ryan struggled to form words, completely at a loss and feeling dizzy.

"Maybe you should sit down," Dallon suggested and pointed towards the bench in the middle of the room.

"I'm not sure I want to know," Ryan whispered before turning on his heel and running out of the classroom, leaving Brendon on the brink of tears.

 

-

 

The first thing that Pete didn't expect that afternoon was to see at the shops was a student, but the second thing he did not expect was to see Mikey in a sweets shop at 1:00pm. However, even worse, the last fucking thing he expected was to see Mikey fucking Way in full makeup and a leather mini skirt.

Pete stared at him as he watched him reach up to pull down a pink box of chocolates with a large gold bow on it. He read the back of the box and frowned. He had bare legs and a pair of black leather heels that made his already incredibly long legs look even longer.

Apparently Pete had been gazing at the boy too obviously, because a girl with a name tag interrupted his train of thought, causing Pete to swear in surprise and Mikey to glance over.

"Sir, can I help you?" She repeated as Pete tried to desperately hide his face with a handful of Lion bars.

"Nope," he coughed, trying to disguise his voice.

Mikey smirked and strutted over to the man, pressing his overdrawn lips together and letting his skirt ride up as he stopped in front of him. "Pete, baby!" He chimed.

Pete stared at him in shock, not able to really form words because he suddenly found himself rock hard in the middle of a sweets shop, staring at his kind of boyfriend who was wearing dark red lipstick and heels that made him look like pure walking sex, while a shop attendant stared at them in confusion.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," Mikey suggested, lacing his fingers with the man's and practically dragging him out of onto the stone pathway.

"You look..." Pete trailed off and allowed his eyes to roam the boy's body once more, appreciating how the black blouse he had on hugged him in ways that he had never imagined with the school uniform he saw every day.

"Oh God, you hate it don't you?" Mikey cried and covered his chest with his free hand.

"Oh fuck no," Pete exclaimed and stopped to turn toward him. "This is fucking incredible. I never understood the appeal of short skirts and bare legs until today. All I wanted was to buy a handful of candy bars and go watch Coronation Street or something, but now I'd much rather fuck you against a wall with the skirt still on you."

Mikey blushed and looked down, his confidence not as prominent after the compliment. "I never really thought you'd ever see me in these clothes," he admitted, playing with the rings that adorned his painted fingers.

"So what is this?" Pete asked. "Is it a cross dressing thing or..." He stopped himself from continuing, knowing that his lack of knowledge on the topic would only cause him to say something stupid and possibly offensive.

"I just like girl clothes," Mikey answered plainly, raising his shoulders slightly in a shrug. "It's not a gender thing, I'm still a boy. I'll never not be a boy. Sometimes I just feel like being pretty and dressing up in things that show off my body."

Pete nodded and smirked, "I have absolutely no problem with that Mikey Way. You have an absolutely exquisite body that I wouldn't mind seeing in more detail."

Mikey shifted his weight and crossed his arms, a grin spreading onto his face, "Are you inviting me home, Mr. Wentz? That's very unprofessional of you as an educator."

"You sucked my dick on a desk, I think we're past that." Pete wrapped his arm around Mikey's waist and led him to his car. "I'm going to fuck you so hard."

Mikey got into the car, making sure his skirt had ridden up all the way up.

As Pete climbed into the driver's seat, Mikey flashed him a smile and winked, "I'm holding you to that."


	12. Come At Me, You Fucking Vagina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> beginning and end parts are shit af but hey dan howell

The first thing Frank wasn't expecting was to literally be tackled to the ground by Oliver, who had lost Xian somewhere along the line for some reasons related to 'Ryan Ross' and his 'flare for the green leaf'.

"Oh my fuck, you're alive!" Oli yelled as Frank pushed him off.

"Yeah I'm alive," Frank mumbled. "I fucked Mr. Way."

Oli stared at him in silence for a few moments before bursting out laughing. "That's a good one." Frank simply stared at him with a dead-pan expression until Oli's eyes widened in realization. "Holy shit. Was it good? How? What happened? What? When?"

"Calm down, walk with me, I'll tell you everything," Frank smirked. "But we have to find Aubrey, he took a lot of pills last night."

They quickly walked down the halls, sneaking past classrooms until they were standing outside of Aubrey's room. Both of them stood awkwardly, neither really wanting to open the door.

"What if he's-"

"He isn't... I don't think," Frank replied.

Oli nodded and pushed the door open slowly. They stared at the body on the bed, holding their breath. Aubrey didn't look dead. Well, he also didn't look like he was breathing.

"Is he dead?" Oli whispered in horror.

"Oh my God, he's dead," Frank yelled. 

At the loudness of his voice, Aubrey stirred, rolling away from them with a heavy sigh. They both jumped backwards, Frank emitting a small squeal in the process.

"Did you just scream?" Oli raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? No," Frank instantly defended.

"Okay... That sounds fake," He smirked

In response, Frank shoved him into a wall. They shoved each other back and forth, laughing until they ran straight into Mr. Smith.

"Frank Iero," he yelled and grabbed the boy's arm. "Care to explain where you've been all morning?"

"Sick," Frank replied plainly.

"Are you sure it wasn't anything related to a party?" Spencer pushed, a smirk on his face.

"Me? Party?" Frank mocked offence but sounded genuine. "I'll have you know I had the flu."

"I'm sure you wouldn't mind coming to Dallon's office then and explaining it all," he said.

Frank pondered his options but opted for his usual; "I have games, gotta Zayn!" He yelled, running down the hall and out of the emergency exit.

"Fuck," Spencer muttered.

Oliver offered him a faux smile before also turning on his heel and following Frank's options.

 

-

 

Dan Howell was in a shitty mood. It may have been due to his general disdain towards the public, or it could have been because Frank Iero was being an absolute right twat today. He glared at him from the opposite end of the bench. Frank was always excused from games for a variety of reasons from a broken leg to leprosy. He was creative, so Dan had to give him points for that. And normally, Daniel didn't care about what Frank was doing. However today, he was genuinely sick and Frank would not quit pestering him.

"Hey Danny," Frank taunted again. All he'd been doing for the past twenty minutes was repeatedly calling him Danny and commenting on his fringe.

"Piss off," Dan muttered and pulled out his phone. At that moment, Xian walked past them, shielding his eyes from the sunlight.

"Fuck, what is that awful thing in the sky?" He whined, digging around in his bag, which was really just a purse but he would never admit it and insisted that it was simply a leather bag, in search of sunglasses.

"It's the sun, Xian," Dan replied plainly and glanced up, squinting a bit.

"I'm going to fight it," he mumbled and sat next to him, putting his sunglasses on slowly and shaking his head.

Dan only nodded and hummed, closing his eyes and letting his head tip back as he power napped. It was peaceful; that is, of course, until he felt something bounce off the side of his head.

"Did you just throw an acorn at me?" He asked Frank.

Frank shrugged and laid back on the grass, "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. What's it to you?"

"I swear Iero, one day you're gonna act like a little shit and just get decked in the fucking face," Xian laughed and played with the piece of nature that had bounced off Dan's face into his lap.

Dan pursed his lips, pondering what Xian had said. He reckoned it wasn't such a terrible idea to consider. He also reckoned that Frank deserved it in the end. However he also knew that he had the body fat of a jellyfish and cried that morning from a paper cut, so he wasn't exactly the ideal candidate to be the one to take Frank's ego down a notch.

He wasn't until Frank opened his mouth again.

"Maybe, but Dan's a fucking pussy."

With that, Dan stood up off the bench, ignoring the wave of dizziness due to illness, and kicked Frank in the side firmly.

Dan immediately regretted that decision.

Even though Frank was practically a foot shorter than him, he was genuinely scary when you pissed him off. He instantly shot up and began screaming at him.

"Do you really want to pick a fight with me, Howell?" He challenged.

That was when Dan should have laughed it off and surrendered, but Daniel Howell was sick anyways and figured he'd die of this illness eventually, so he may as well speed up to process and let Frank kill him.

The two ended up screaming at each other, getting awfully close but never actually hitting each other. 

"Nobody's fighting in my class unless I see blood!" Mr. Hurley yelled across the field in warning.

At this point, all eyes were on the two boys. They were both extremely annoyed at each other and generally ready for some type of violence, however Dan was a bit more hesitant. Even so, he was the first to make a move when he shoved Frank backwards.

"Come at me, you fucking vagina!" Frank screamed, louder than before.

Dan's eyes widened in offense and his sense of right and wrong disappeared at the insult. He reeled back and connected his fist directly with Frank's nose as hard as possible.

He cringed and shielded himself, expecting Frank to hit him back, but was surprised when he opened his eyes to see him doubled over holding his face.

Frank straightened himself out and spat a mouthful of blood onto the grass. Just as he lunged forward toward Dan, Andy shoved them both aside.

"Xian, take Daniel to the office," he screamed and turned to Frank. "Can you see me?" 

Frank gave him a half nod and wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Andy pointed back to the bench and turned back to the football game he was trying to conduct.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" Xian asked Dan as they walked towards the school. "That was so violent."

"I can not believe I did that," Dan exclaimed, holding his forehead.

"God, you hit him! You hit him... You hit him too hard."

"I shoved him softly, and then he called me a fucking vagina," Dan defended himself.

They reached the office and Xian flashed a cheerful smile at Jamia, who stared at him emotionlessly. "Yes Mr. Bailey?"

"You are looking incredible today, Jamia." Xian kept his smile plastered. "Whenever Dally-boy has a chance, Daniel Howell punched Frank in the face. So, you guys can just... Do whatever with that."

Jamia leaned to the side and looked past Xian at Dan, raising her eyebrow at this slim boy. "Okay, Dal-uh Mr. Weekes will see him, you can return to class."

Dan sat down and smirked to himself as Xian left the office. 

"Did you really hit Frank Iero?" Jamia asked, holding back a smile.

He smiled at her and sighed deeply, "You bet your ass, I did."

 

-

 

"Don't worry, you'll do great," Dallon reassured in a low voice into Brendon's ear.

He'd been on the verge of multiple anxiety attacks over the course of the day since Ryan had walked in on him and his head teacher.

They stood behind the heavy dark blue curtains of the theatre, awaiting Brendon's cue.

"I feel like shit," he muttered and wiped his face.

"Well you look good, if that helps," Dallon smiled warmly, slipping his arm around the boy's waist.

Brendon looked up at him and gave him a half smile, but his expression returned to a nervous one immediately after.

Dallon dipped his head to Brendon's neck, placing light, chaste pecks to the exposed skin. Brendon sighed happily, feeling calmness wash over him. 

"Thank you," he whispered.

Stage crew walked past them, one of the women raising her eyebrow at their closeness. 

"People are staring," Dallon chuckled, allowing one of his hands to roam south.

Brendon swatted at his hand and giggled. "Are you trying to turn me on before I play?" He scolded playfully.

"Is it working?" He said in a sultry voice.

A short redhead interrupted them before he could go further and smiled at Brendon, her eyes flicking between them. "Brendon Urie?"

"That's me," Brendon smiled shyly at her and stepped forwards a bit.

"Right this way," she gave him a short smile.

Just as he walked away, Dallon smacked his ass, causing Brendon to turn the brightest shade of red possible and him to receive a judgemental glare from the girl.

"Go shred their faces off," he winked.

"Playing piano is the furthest away from shredding, you fucking dork," Brendon snorted.

"Do it anyways."


	13. In Which Bellato Throws A Book At Iero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry i didn't update for ages. notes will be at the end of the chapter explaining that so please read that.  
> introduction of some other characters this chapter and alcohol use, actual phan is blasting off

Lyndsey sat on top of her desk watching her students work on their sheets she'd handed out. She discreetly held her phone behind one of the folders so it looked like she was really into her paperwork, when in reality she was really invested in her cats on Neko Atsume.

She glanced up briefly again to see that everyone was staying on task, but just as she went to go back to her cats she noticed Frank literally sleeping.

Sighing, she set down her phone-paperwork and walked over to him and nudged his shoulder, crossing her arms. When he didn't respond she nudged him a bit harder, and he began snoring.

A couple students had looked up at this point, watching Ms. Bellato get frustrated.

"Want me to wake him up?" Oliver piped up from the back of the class.

"If you actually can accomplish that, I'd appreciate it," she replied dimly.

What wasn't expected, was for Oli to let out an ungodly screeching noise. Everybody snapped their heads around to stare at him, basically in unison.

Frank sat upright immediately and made a noise that could only be described as a whimper and stared at Ms. Bellato and Oli, wide eyed and confused. "What'd I miss?" He asked.

"Mr. Iero, have you finished reading chapter 10?" Lyndsey asked.

"Nope. Haven't read a word of this," he replied bluntly and crossed his arms.

Lyndsey scooped the book off his desk and examined it, frowning. "What exactly do you have against To Kill A Mockingbird?" She asked, arching a brow.

"It's a shit book," he shrugged, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. "I don't want to read it so fuck you."

"Detention for you, potty mouth."

Frank mocked her voice and then smirked when she sent him a glare from across the classroom. She was now standing at the front, writing his name on a detention slip. "Fight me!" He yelled, half jokingly, but everyone knew Frank Iero was always down for a fight no matter the circumstances; even if it was against his English teacher.

Then without missing a beat, Frank's copy of the book flew from her hand and narrowly missed his head. The entire class slowly turned their heads and stared at Ms. Bellato, including Frank who was now sitting upright with wide eyes.

"Did she just-," Ryan whispered. The boy next to him nodded hesitantly in response.

"You can get out of my class now," she stated with a big smile.

Frank slowly stood up, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the class towards the office.

Lyndsey turned back to her, now, completely silent class. "Anyone who's going to put themselves above my rules, or try to fight or argue with me can follow Mr. Iero down to administration," she smiled scarily calmly and propped herself up on the corner of her desk. "Let's continue now."

A few hours later, Dallon entered the classroom with a tired expression. He gestured towards Lyndsey and stepped out of the classroom with her.

"I think you know why I'm here," he sighed.

"The book didn't _hit_ him." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "It simply narrowed missed his head. By chance or by accuracy? The world may never know."

"Look," Dallon explained, "I know that he's a little shit disturber and you don't especially like him, but he's still a student. Would you throw books at any other kids' heads?"

Lyndsey arched her brow, "Do you want a serious answer to that?"

Dallon nodded and raked his fingers through his hair. "Alright well just... I don't know, try not to purposefully almost injure the children. I don't really think that any of us can afford a lawsuit right now, okay?"

"Oh I doubt we'll get a lawsuit over one little book incident, especially not from Frank's parents." She shrugged and leaned against the brick. "I called them the other week about their son's progress and it sounded more like the mum couldn't give less of a shit. It's kind of sad, really," she frowned.

"While you have a point, let's just keep the books for reading and not throwing," Dallon sighed as he walked down the hall back to his office.

 

-

 

Mr. Lester was perched on the corner of his desk, glasses slid halfway down his nose as he flipped through a magazine mindlessly. His students were finishing up the work they'd been assigned the previous class before they started the next part of the course. 

"Sir?" Dan raised his hand and tapped his fingers across the keys of his computer.

"Hm, yes?" Phil tilted his head upwards to look at his student. "Ah, Daniel is it?"

"Yes but, I prefer Dan sir. I've completed the assignment from yesterday."

"Dan it is," Phil gestured for him to come over and tossed his magazine onto his desk. "You can start the next project if you'd like. It's a bit different than the normal curriculum, but I think that you'll do quite okay." He shuffled through his extremely disorganized drawers, looking for the packet of papers that outlined the project.

"You should consider cleaning up that drawer," Dan teased and offered a lopsided smile.

"I have! I swear that some classroom goblin comes and makes it disheveled whenever I'm not looking," Phil protested as he pulled out a colouring book and threw it on his chair, while Dan raised an eyebrow at the unusual content of the drawer. After aimlessly sifting through the desk for a bit, he pulled out an animal printed binder. "Ah, here it is."

He flipped it open halfway and pulled out a light blue page, and handed it to Dan. "Here's the outline. Just ignore the fourth paragraph, I forgot to cut it out of it before printing it and Mr. Weekes limited my printing privileges after I printed out... Well never mind that," he waved his hand dismissively. "Have a read through that and let me know if you have any questions. I'm going to step out for a moment though."

As Phil stood up and picked up his coffee mug, Dan smiled at him and raked his eyes over the page as he walked back to his desk.

The next minute, however, he found sprawled on the ground and a group of boys snickering. He went to push himself up, but felt a weight on his back and turned his head just enough to see one of Chris Kendall's trainers on the floor next to his shoulder, the other he assumed to be the weight on his back keeping him down.

"Trouble getting up, Howell?" Chris asked and Dan could practically hear the smug smirk in his voice. He rolled his eyes and decided that staying down on the dirty tile of the classroom floor was more desirable than the possibility of getting kicked in the head or something absurd.

Dan wasn't going to keep himself from being a sarcastic shit though. "Maybe if your fat arse wasn't on me, I wouldn't have any issues getting off the ground." Immediately he felt a sharp pain in his side and cringed, but wasn't surprised. He was being sassy and probably had deserved it.

"Give it up Chris," he heard someone sigh and footsteps nearing.

"Do you want to get merked too, Ligiouri?" Chris asked and moved his foot from Dan's back, allowing the boy to get up quickly while he had the chance now that Chris' attention was directed elsewhere.

PJ shrugged and sat on the corner of one of the tables. "You might scare the year 10 and 11 kids, but everyone going into sixth form knows you're a barmy."

Just as Chris went to yell at him, Phil strode back into the room holding his mug and yawning. He squinted at the group of boys, taking in the situation. Dan was stood looking fearful, clutching the blue paper in his hands, Chris looked furious, and PJ didn't seem to have a care in the world as he was sat on a younger boy's desk. "What's going on in here?" Phil asked and set down his tea.

"Nothing Mr. Lester, sir," Chris lied and tried to look calm.

"That is some tosh if I've ever heard it," PJ scoffed and stood up. Phil looked between the two, noticing Dan slowly backing up to his row of computers and sitting down, trying to remain unnoticed. "Chris is being a twat towards Dan." 

Chris sent PJ death glares, while PJ remained completely unphased by him. "Is that true, Dan?" Phil asked the brunet who was honestly just trying to hide from everyone at this point and avoid further embarrassment.

"It was honestly more of a misunderstanding than anything. Nothing really to worry about, sir." Dan offered a smile that Phil saw right through, but he decided to drop it and made a mental note to have Dan see him after class, knowing that the boy wouldn't say anything that invited confrontation at the moment.

The rest of the class was fairly uneventful, only a couple other students finishing their project by the time the bell rang. As Dan wrapped his headphones around his phone and shoved it into his back pocket, Phil stood up from his desk. When Dan went to walk past, Phil gently grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from going further. "Do you mind staying here for a minute? I'll write you a late slip for your next class," he asked but noticed Dan's eyes widen. "Don't worry! It's nothing bad."

"Oookay," Dan reluctantly agreed and wrung his hands nervously. "Did I do something?"

"I just wanted to know what happened in class while I was gone," Phil said. "You don't have to worry about getting anyone in trouble. I just know that PJ doesn't ever lie about this type of thing."

"I would really rather not," Dan trailed off and kept his gaze cast on the floor.

Phil sighed but smiled at him, even though the boy wasn't really looking, "It's alright. If you want to talk about anything, I'm here. And I did hear about your incident with Frank, so I know that you can defend yourself if you have to."

At that, Dan blushed and smirked, unable to hold back the shred of accomplishment that he held from that incident. "Yeah, don't worry I'll be fine," he reassured and took a step towards the door. "I will keep that talking thing in mind though."

"Alright, ace," Phil gave a silly grin and sat back down as Dan left his classroom.

 

 

-

 

A party at his house near the school hadn't exactly been the smartest of Ryan's ideas but now that it was already in motion, there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

Especially when there was a drink being thrown at him during a metal song and he was certain he'd heard his mum's vase just smash.

In all reality, a party was his stupidest idea thus-far.

"Ryan!" He heard his name being calked from the other room. He pushed through the people until he found himself in the hall with Xian. "Great party and all but where's the alcohol?"

"It was bring your _own_ beer," Ryan sighed and adjusted the leather headband on his forehead.

"Oh shit," Xian pursed his lips. "Okay well me and Jon are gonna go on a fun run."

"Do I even want to know what that entails?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

Xian gave an exaggerated shrug just as Jon jogged up to them and leaned on him heavily, clearly already drunk.

"We need more alcohol," Jon slurred and stumbled toward the door, gripping Xian's hand and dragging him along. Xian waved at Ryan as the two somehow made it outside.

Ryan surveyed the party, which was going full on at that point with no end in sight. There was a lot going on. Girls he had never met were scattered across the house, some getting a little close for public than others. A game of spin the bottle was ongoing in the living room, which he'd been invited to join multiple times.

In all honesty, this party was thrown to get his mind off what he'd seen happening between his best friend and their head teacher, but it wasn't exactly working out that way. Seeing couples only made him feel worse.

He had worked at opening some type of intimacy with Brendon since they met a few years ago, and though they had never directly confirmed a relationship of any type, he still felt a bit annoyed at the fact that it was a teacher no less.

Of course, the only thing that could've made the situation worse was to see Brendon at the party... Which is exactly what happened in the next moment.

His eyes locked onto him immediately and Ryan couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in his chest, but decided he could ignore the problem entirely.

In fact they had noticed each other and managed to ignore each other for the majority of the party. That was, until, Jon and Xian arrived back from their 'fun run' when they grabbed Brendon and Ryan and dragged them to the game of spin the bottle which had now turned into 7 minutes in heaven when Frank had basically fucked a girl in front of everyone and they told him to get some privacy.

So now Ryan found himself sitting directly across from Brendon glaring at him, Brendon doing the same.

The game was going okay, until it was Ryan's turn and the bottle landed in between Brendon and Xian, but Xian had to be a little bitch and scoot slightly away so the bottle was closer to Brendon.

"It doesn't count," Ryan protested and crossed his arms, pouting.

"I thought you liked Brendon," Jon questioned.

Ryan didn't have a response to that. "Can I just spin again?" He asked. But really, he didn't _want_ to spin again. There was no one else sat in the circle that he wanted to be locked in the cupboard with for 7 minutes. He just wanted to prove he was over it all, when in reality he wasn't.

"You're coming into that cupboard with me, Ryan Ross," Brendon interrupted everyone's debates and dragged Ryan up, gripping his wrist as he pulled him to the hallway, although Ryan really wasn't resisting all that much.

Once inside, the tension was unbearable. They didn't say anything at first to each other, just stood in the dark cupboard staring at the ground. Brendon glanced up and appreciated how the dim glow from the half burnt out lightbulb inside made Ryan's features even softer, if that was possible.

"I'm sorry," Brendon whispered, not even sure if Ryan had heard him. But he wasn't about to say it twice, so he just hoped that it was heard.

After a few moments, Ryan threw himself into Brendon and hugged him tightly. There honestly wasn't a lot the two could say, but Brendon was properly hammered by then and his hands were grabby and his lips loose. However, Ryan turned his head to evade the kiss, which wasn't hard considering the boy's aim was pretty well off by then and his reactions slowed.

"I care for you and like me a lot, but I won't kiss you when you're drunk like this," He explained. "If it's going to happen, I need it to be real."

Brendon frowned and processed the situation for a minute before lowering his head, opening the cupboard door and storming out. Their friends hadn't noticed him leave, so when Ryan finally emerged and was questioned as to where his counterpart was, he passed it off as Brendon being sick.

He was sat lost in his own thoughts as the game progressed quite slowly, until a loud chorus of 'ooo's pulled him from his own thoughts. Nothing could have prepared him for the prospect of his two close friends being intimate. Jon and Xian looked at each other hesitantly, while a couple of their friends whispered.

"Do we have to go into the closet?" Jon asked.

"Do you have a voyeur kink or something?" Oli teased.

"Get in the closet," someone yelled.

Once inside, Jon felt anxiety wash over him and Xian seemed to notice. "We don't have to actually do anything," Xian suggested and leaned against the door.

"Isn't that technically cheating?" Jon smirked.

Xian shrugged and crossed his arms. "I'm just trying to make you feel more comfortable."

Jon shook his head," "No homo though," He said weakly and avoided his gaze.

"Full homo, fucker," Xian whispered and grabbed his face, pushing his lips against his friend's.

Once they emerged from the cupboard, they didn't say much. Jon's face was flushed bright red and he was avoiding eye contact with practically everyone. When someone asked how it was, Xian only shrugged and winked.

Their friends thought the boys were joking around, but Jon knew that he had felt something a little bit homo in that cupboard and he wasn't sure if he minded it so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hi hello. i know it's been over a month. updates haven't been the best for any of my fics, as you guys probably know reading this. i've been really ill, and i just have an awful immune system so it sucks. comments are super helpful though, because they make me know that people are _actually_ reading this and that is super good to know.
> 
> if you guys want, my kik and tumblr i'll give you and if there's ever any questions or something specific that any of you want in the fic, you guys can just message me on either one.
> 
> another thing, in the next few chapters i'm going to start making Brendon choose between Ryan or Dallon for good and whoever he doesn't choose may or may not be taken out of the fic but i haven't really decided yet, so comment on that.
> 
> that's about it for now, but thank you so much to everyone reading this on both wattpad and ao3!
> 
> kik: little boys twerk  
> tumblr: prxttyfrxnk
> 
> cheers ~x


	14. A Surprise Visit to the ER With Petekey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lmao what the fuck even is this fanfic anymore. also i don't proof read anything i post if u guys haven't noticed yet

"Please tell me you have lube," Mikey mumbled as he laid face down on his not-actually-but-technically-teacher's bed. 

"Frank didn't stretch you enough last time you fucked?" Pete said in a sassy tone, just having found out about his favourite student's fling with Frank Iero.

Mikey pushed himself up so he was kneeling on the mattress. "For the last time, it was a one time thing. Get over it," he glared at Pete and raked a hand through his hair.

The man went to talk back but Mikey held up a finger and pulled off his top, discarding it somewhere on the floor and beckoned for Pete to come closer. He, of course, crawled onto the bed and reached to unzip the side of Mikey's skirt, but Mikey had other ideas.and pushed him back so he was laying on the bed.

He moved over him so he was straddling Pete and pulled him up by his collar to kiss him. Then, he started grinding on his lower stomach, touching himself and maintaining eye contact.

Pete smirked and placed his hands on Mikey's hips, "Are you giving me a lap dance, Mikey Way?"

"Are you getting a boner, Mr. Wentz?" Mikey practically purred back and pushed his hands under Pete's shirt, allowing his hands to roam across his chest. He grinded further down so his ass grazed his crotch and smirked. "Are you turned on baby?" He whispered as he nibbled on Pete's earlobe.

"Fuck," Pete growled and dug his fingers into the boy's hips. He had to keep himself from thrusting against Mikey, his dick painfully hard underneath his movements. Mikey continued to grind on him, touching himself and moaning theatrically and undid Pete's jeans

When Mikey moved to unzip his skirt, Pete grabbed his hand and shook his head. "I wanna... I wanna fuck you with it on," he mumbled in a quiet voice that probably wouldn't even been heard, had Mikey not been right next to his face. 

"That's so hot," he giggled and rolled off him so that Pete could take off his jeans. The next minute, Mikey practically tore the shirt off Pete and crawled back onto him, but Pete flipped them over and grabbed a bottle off the bed side table. Mikey took the bottle from him and flipped the lid, gasping when Pete grasped him firmly. He pushed his hips back so he could pour the lube onto the man's length.

However, as he started pumping him, it became very apparent that Pete had grabbed the wrong bottle when he started yelling for Mikey to stop.

"Why is it burning?!" He yelled and sat up, looking at it. Mikey stared at him with wide eyes, having no fucking idea what to do. "Don't just stand there, turn on the light!"

Mikey scrambled over him, almost falling as he flicked on the light. "Oh my God." His hand flew up to cover his mouth as he examined Pete. "I think you need to go to the hospital."

"Why is it so red though?!" Pete looked over at his nightstand and his eyes widened in horror. "Mikey..." He began. "I think I used my hand sanitizer..."

 

-

 

"Hey." _Kick_. "Wake up." _Kick_. "Your mum's gonna be home soon."

Ryan looked up at Brendon, who was perched on the corner of his bed, with half lidded eyes. His head felt like it was about to explode, an aftereffect of all the alcohol his friends had fed him the night before.

"No."

Brendon raised an eyebrow at him, "No?" He questioned his hungover, maybe still drunk friend who looked like he couldn't even open his eyes completely.

"She's not even in the country," Ryan mumbled and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head. "Now let me sleep."

He let out a small oh and went back into the kitchen, observing the damage from the night before. Brendon was aware of Ryan's absent mother. She was in and out of the house, sometimes even the country, without warning. The positive was that she kept the bills paid and Ryan financially supported, but the emotional support was often what he craved.

Before he could even begin picking up the mess from the party, Ryan stumbled into the kitchen. His hair was sticking up in different directions, eyeliner smudged, and he was standing in the doorway rubbing his temples.

"So," he started. "Ah, shit I'm gonna sound like a total ass."

"What?" Brendon raised an eyebrow.

Ryan sighed loudly, clearly debating how to word it. "Can you like... Leave?" He cringed at his words, rubbing the back of his neck, and avoided eye contact at all costs.

"Are you seriously still mad at me?" Brendon spat, crossing his arms. Ryan rolled his eyes and turned to walk back out of the kitchen but he jogged after him and grabbed his arm.

"Get the fuck off me, Brendon." Ryan ripped his arm away and scowled at him. "I'm not in the mood to deal with your shitty attitude today."

"Oh _you_ aren't in the mood to deal with _my_ shit?" He scoffed and threw his head back, laughing sarcastically.  "Seriously, grow up. You've been acting like an angsty little shit ever since we fucked, but I'm the asshole now."

"You're the one who fucking cried about it because you didn't want to be gay," Ryan said bluntly.

What followed was the sound of skin being smacked and Ryan reeled, staring at Brendon with a shocked expression. Under most circumstances, he would have shut up, backed off, and apologized. But Brendon had just unknowingly started a small war against his best friend.

"You are a fucking bitch, Ryan Ross," Brendon sobbed, trying to hold back tears. 

And _that_ was when Ryan's fist connected with Brendon's massive forehead. Instantly, he cradled his hand and cringed. "That," he started but sucked in a sharp breath of air as he moved it and felt his fist throbbing. "Doesn't hurt," he lied. "Why the fuck is your forehead so hard?"

Brendon was holding his forehead, but walked out of the kitchen and grabbed his coat off the arm chair. 

"Wait, please don't leave," Ryan begged, running after him, still holding his hand against his chest. 

"Who the fuck punches someone in the _forehead_ and expects them to stay?" Brendon laughed harshly. "I'm fucking done with your shit," he muttered and stormed out the front door, leaving Ryan with a fucking painful, possibly broken hand and a bit of a broken heart. 

_-_

What Gerard wasn't expecting was to have a heart attack right after waking up. What he _definitely_ hadn't expected was that heart attack to be in the form of Frank Iero eating leftover pizza on his counter top. 

"How the fuck did you get in my house?" He asked after catching his breath, having just experiences about 47 different emotions. 

"Door's unlocked," Frank replied, his mouth stuffed with the cold pizza. 

He supposed that worse things could have happened by leaving his door unlocked, besides Frank Iero. But he definitely still had mixed feelings on the boy ever since they ended up, to put it bluntly, fucking in the shower. 

Luckily, it was a Saturday and neither really _had_ to be at the school. However it was a solid twenty minute walk and he didn't even want to know how Frank knew where he lived, so he didn't bother asking. Instead he pulled open the cutlery drawer and grabbed a packet of cigarettes. 

"Look, I'm a chain smoking piece of shit that stashes cigarettes around the house for when I'm lazy," Gerard defended himself when Frank raised an eyebrow at the peculiar stash spot. "But why the fuck are you even in my house?" 

Frank casually shrugged, plucking a cigarette from his own packet. "Horny," he stated bluntly and placed the thin stick between his lips. 

"And you expect me to solve that?" Gerard scoffed, fumbling to light the damn thing, which he would blame on the fact that he'd literally woken up less than 10 minutes ago, but was honestly due to the fact that Frank had a way of making him just a tiny bit turned on. 

"Yup. And there's no school so we can fuck all day without any problems," Frank beamed, obviously proud of his plans for the day. 

"You're a pain in my ass," Gerard sighed, smirking once he got the cigarette to light. 

"Literally and figuratively," Frank teased, causing his teacher to inhale weirdly and start coughing, which only sent Frank into a fit of giggles as he hopped off the counter and discarded the crust of the pizza on the stovetop. "Anyways, all jokes aside, how fucking hot would it be if I fucked you on the counter?" 

"People eat here, Frank." 

He gave the man a lopsided smile, "Not my house, not my problem." 

"Frank, I'm not having sex with you again," Gerard stated, not sounding as confident as he had hoped to. 

That was when Frank _huffed_. He crossed his arms, pouting like a child over the fact that he wasn't allowed to have sex with his teacher, which honestly reminded Gerard of how he looked when they first met, pouting in detention on his first day at the academy. 

And Gerard really had to admit that he was fucking adorable when he pouted, so he sighed loudly. "Come here then if you're gonna fuck me, Iero." 

"Gladly, Mr. Way," he moved forwards and kissed at Gerard's exposed chest, trailing a finger down the thin line of hair below his navel. He shuddered at that touch, biting back a moan while he tried to finish his cigarette quickly. 

Frank allowed that hand to fall into Gerard's pajamas, lightly dancing across his length, and used his other hand to pull Gerard's head down to him for an open mouthed kiss. 

Just as things began to move quickly, Gerard's phone began ringing from the table. "Fuck, that's Mikey's ringtone," Gerard muttered and went to pull away. 

"Ignore it," Frank insisted and let his fingers curl around Gerard's length. As if to prove his point, the ringing stopped soon after. 

Gerard sat up on the countertop and wrapped his legs around Frank's waist, letting the boy take total control of him. But just as soon as the ringing had stopped, it started again. 

"Let me just tell him to piss off and then we can continue this, yeah?" Gerard offered, which Frank replied to with a dramatic eye roll and a ' _fine_ ' that honestly sounded like it could be straight out of Napolean Dynamite. 

Before Gerard could even greet his younger brother, Mikey began yelling in a panic, and the only part that Gerard could distinguish out of it was that Pete was in the hospital. 

"What the fuck did you do to him?" Gerard whisper-yelled, trying to make it so Frank couldn't hear. 

_"We accidentally used hand sanitizer instead of lube."_

And that was the first time that Frank had seen Gerard absolutely lose his shit with laughter. 


	15. A Short Chapter In Which Everything Seems Okay For 5 Minutes

Brendon shifted uncomfortably in the plastic chair outside of Dallon's office, waiting to speak with his beloved head teacher on two topics. The first, was the altercation that had happened between him and Ryan, which in turn had left a bruise in the middle of his forehead. The second, was that when he'd walked into his first class, Mr. Way wasn't there. In fact most of the students had left before him, a couple parroting that if the teacher hadn't arrived after fifteen minutes, they could leave. 

Just as he began drifting off, the door opened suddenly and he stood up, almost slamming into whoever was coming out. He was met with a man around his height with white-blonde hair and grey eyes in a black button up.

"Brendon, right?" He asked with a thick northern accent, smirking. 

"Yeah, do I know you?" Brendon responded in a small voice.

"You will as of tomorrow," he smiled and walked past him.

Brendon walked into Dallon's office with a confused expression and sat down as he gestured towards the door. "Who's that guy?"

"New teacher," Dallon replied dismissively and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face. "How can I help you?"

"I have a question." Dallon raised an eyebrow and made a gesture to continue, so Brendon sighed loudly. "What are we?"

Dallon inhaled sharply, rubbing his eyes. 9.20 AM and he already had drama to deal with, even if it was incredibly minor. "I don't..." He began to form a sentence but stopped and pursed his lips. "I'm your head teacher, and you're my student. Also we've made out on more than one occasion," he stated matter-of-factly, which ended up further annoying his student/possible boyfriend but it was all confusing at this point in their timeline, almost as if a writer had forgotten to clarify what their relationship was a few chapters ago.

"But don't you want to be _something_ with me, Dallon?" Brendon urged, crossing his legs and giving him a look that could only be described as incredibly sassy.

"Are you implying that you would like to be something with a label?" He asked in a bored tone, eyeing the incredibly attractive but equally bratty boy sat in front of his desk.

Brendon quirked an eyebrow and rolled his eyes, "Context clues, baby!"

"I, uh," Dallon sighed, raking his hands through his hair once again and took a deep breath. "Would you maybe, um. Uh, bemyboyfriend?"

 

"I'm sorry, what was that last bit again Mr. Weekes?" Brendon smirked.

Dallon rolled his eyes and exhaled, "Boyfriend or not, Urie."

The younger leaned back slowly, taking his time to stretch and being incredibly obnoxious about it before sitting forwards again with a shit-eating grin. He paused.

"I'll think about it."

 

-

 

"Good morning boys, I'll be your new psychology and sociology teacher," a man with blonde hair announced and picked up a piece of chalk, writing his last name. "Mr. Ash. Three letters. If you can't spell or pronounce it, go back to primary."

Frank, who had been basically asleep on his desk until then nursing a hangover, sat up with a confused expression. "Where's Gerard?" He asked, still managing to slur his words.

Mr. Ash squinted at him. "Iero, right?" He asked, earning a curt nod from Frank. "He was temporary until they found someone more qualified for the class since the previous teacher was fired. No, he's not coming back to teach this. Yes, he still teaches art. Let's use this first class to get to know each other as I haven't been to this school since I was your age."

Ryan lazily raised his hand, talking before Mr. Ash had even acknowledged him. "How old are you?"

"Old enough. Before I start this exercise, does anyone else have irrelevant questions?" He asked in an irritated tone.

Hands flew up around the class as he continued to answer them. "I'm a Pisces. No, my hair is not naturally blonde. No, I'm not wearing contacts. My first name is Yarrow. No, I'm not named after a vegetable. No, I'm not giving you my social media. I'm 170cm. I don't know my dress size. No, I'm not single. I'm not gay either. That's illegal I'm pretty sure. Why do you need my middle name? Everyone's broken the law at least once. No, I haven't been to prison."

By the time the class had finished with their questions, there was only half of it remaining. Yarrow sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Okay no more questions. As I read your family name off the attendance, tell me your full name, your age, and something you like. Let's start with Jordan Adams." As they made their way down the list, Mr. Ash found himself further questioning his ability to maintain an orderly class.

"Xian Bailey. 17. Anime... I guess cats are pretty cool too."

"Tom Delonge. I'm not even in this class but pop punk is pretty fuckin' rad."

"Aubrey Eckland. 16. Power tools."

"Frank Iero. 16. Anything illegal."

"Ryan Ross. 17. Dick."

"Brendon Urie. 16. Not dick. I'm not fuckin' gay get off my back."

"Jon."

Yarrow squinted at Jon and gestured to continued. He just stared back for awhile and then started giggling.

"Jon... Walker? What's goin' on."

"Jon are you high?" Yarrow asked, skeptically staring at the boy. 

He only shook his head slowly and leaned back in his chair. Mr. Ash decided that it was better if he left it, so he finished attendance instead. Just as he went to continue the class, the bell interrupted him and he watched his students packing up their things. 

Patrick slowly made his way to the man's desk and cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting his weight. "Uh, where exactly is the new art class then?" He asked in a timid voice.

Mr. Ash pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair. "You know, I'm not entirely sure. Maybe ask Mr. Weekes, or just wander," he sighed and waved his spare hand, leaning against the other on his desk. "What's your name again?"

"Patrick Stump, sir."

"Don't... Don't call me sir ever," Yarrow gave him a weird look. "You don't look like you're that 'troubled' of a student," he air quoted and sat forwards. "If you find Mr. Way's class, could you tell him I need to talk to him and _not_ be a dick about it?" Patrick gave him a nod and clutched his books to his chest, glancing at the door. "Oh, and yeah you're excused."

The ginger nodded hesitantly and wandered out of the class towards the front of the school but collided with something solid. He looked up and realized he'd ran right into Chris Kendall and he felt his heart sink.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled and went to push past and be on his way but was pulled back by his collar.

"And who the fuck do you think you are?" Chris spat and held him in place.

Patrick shook his head, "Nobody. I just really want to get to class, I swear I didn't mean to run into you at all."

"You'll wish you hadn't run into me," he smirked and backed the ginger into a wall.

"Hey fuck off Kendall," another voice was heard. Patrick turned his head to see Frank standing with his arms crossed and generally looking pissed off.

Chris frowned and let go of Patrick. "What, have you got a crush?" He taunted.

Frank's expression remained the same as he stepped forward. "Nothing like your crush on Dan Howell," he smiled smugly.

Once that was said, Chris' face grew red and he became flustered, avoiding eye contact. "I'm not a faggot," he sputtered. "Now piss off so I can finish with this fucking ginger."

"Not gonna happen, because now you've offended me." Frank uncrossed his arms and reached into his back pocket.

Before it could escalate any further, Patrick slipped away. Partially because he didn't want to be apart of whatever Frank was about to pull, but mainly because if Chris ended up just punching Frank, he really didn't want to stick around for when the shit would be kicked out of himself.

As he half-jogged down the hall away, the last thing he heard was someone yelp in pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been awhile hey. ony 2 months. i've been playing Skyrim for 8 hours at a time instead of writing papers fr uni or chapters of this chapter.
> 
> rubbish bin no.1 it me :3


End file.
